


Pop a 911

by Toritoes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Break Up, Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Drama, Flirty Jesse McCree, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel prefers dogs, Heartache, Idiots in Love, Jack has a cat, M/M, Makeup, Makeup Sex, Mama Reyes is Team R76, Miscommunication, Rimming, Romance, Sex, Sombra | Olivia Colomar is a Little Shit, Swearing, Working it Out, men being idiots, will add more tags if needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29534748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toritoes/pseuds/Toritoes
Summary: Jack Morrison, top criminal lawyer at Overwatch LLP, just wants to be left alone in his misery and get through the gala in peace......too bad his ex-lover Gabriel Reyes has other ideas about that.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada (mentioned), Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix (mentioned)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! Lookie who's back with a brand new R76 fic!
> 
> I just can't leave these two babies alone... Nor can I help my morbid tendencies to put them through hell, apparently! This fic really got away from me - I could have been done with it like two weeks ago, but every time I read over it again, I just ended up adding more and more!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy what's in store, and feel free to drop me a line if you wanna!
> 
> Title and lyrics from Lady Gaga song '911'.

_Turning up emotional faders_  
_Keep repeating self-hating phrases_  
_I have heard enough of these voices_  
_Almost like I have no choice_

As a general rule, Jack Morrison didn’t do ‘parties’.

The forty-three year old didn’t much care to socialise outside of the few people in his life he would consider close enough to be called _friends_. He found trivial pleasantries boring, small talk tedious, and the fake flattery his work associates would lavish upon him just because he was a senior partner at Overwatch LLP in Manhattan, where he was the best goddamn criminal lawyer the company had ever employed, was tiresome to say the least. Biased? Maybe. But then it was hardly egotistical if it was the truth.

Taking a modest pull of his bourbon, he cast his gaze about the room from his vantage point at the bar, watching as his co-workers mingled with the rest of the rabble, everybody laughing and in high spirits as they celebrated the fundraiser. Being a gala of sorts, everybody in attendance was dressed to the nines – ladies dolled up in flowing evening gowns, clutching designer purses and brandishing shimmering jewellery, whilst the men were decked out in professionally tailored suits, sporting criminally expensive watches and ostentatious gentleman’s rings. Jack himself knew he looked rather spiffy in his navy two-piece Armani suit and white check shirt, the ensemble complete with a gold tie and matching pocket square that complimented his ( _still predominantly_ ) golden hair.

The function was being hosted by the city, trying to raise money for the General Hospital – specifically the children’s ward, after the monumental efforts of medical staff in the wake of the Omnic Crisis. And of course, Ana Amari, Overwatch’s Managing Partner, insisted on the big names in the firm being in attendance. It not only looked good for the firm when they could flash an obscene amount of cash and donate to a noble cause, but Ana was an opportunist at its finest, like a shark with the scent of blood in the water. The savvy businesswoman knew that meets like these were the perfect opportunity to drum up some business, the hapless parents of children who were going to benefit from the fundraiser helpless prey to her charms. It felt kind of unethical, to try and pry opportunity from crisis, but then that’s what made lawyers so ruthless – and Ana was a fucking natural.

Besides, it did his reputation a solid to be seen at functions such as these.

More than once, one of his co-workers, namely junior associate attorney Lúcio Correia dos Santos and legal secretary Hana Song, tried to get Jack more involved in the merriment, pestering him to get him up for a dance or to join in their little huddle of junior partners and other faces that Jack didn’t recognise. He didn’t even know if they worked at Overwatch, for crying out loud. But Jack always (semi) politely refused. He was a solitary man a heart. He enjoyed quiet evenings at home with a good book, a glass of wine, and Tchaikovsky as his only company. (Yes, his Maine Coon was named after a famous composer, what of it?) Around the office, Jack was known for being tough and gruff, like a grouchy old man yelling at young punks to get off his lawn – but it was all a façade to keep people at arms length. He was actually a pretty nice guy, once you got to know him, but after a stint in the armed forces before hitting the books and realising his dream of becoming a lawyer, he had a reputation for being a hard-ass that apparently never faded over time. So really, it was unsurprising to find him sitting alone at public functions such as these. Honestly, he mostly preferred it that way.

Pointedly not making eye contact with any of the revellers, he nursed his drink in peace, perfectly content to ride out the rest of the evening in total solitude.

Or at least he would have, if not for–

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t _señor_ Wallflower. _¿Me extrañaste?_ ”

Jack froze, tumbler halfway to his mouth. He would recognise that sultry Mexican accent anywhere. Turning slowly, he felt his pulse pick up in tempo at the sight of Olivia ‘Sombra’ Colomar standing there, seductive little smile in place as she seemingly glided toward him. She looked ravishing in a long ombre purple dress with a high slit up the side, flashing a teasing hint of smooth caramel skin. Her punky hairdo and cat-like eye makeup made her look feral, _dangerous_.

But it wasn’t Sombra herself that had Jack’s heart suddenly jackrabbiting a tumultuous tempo against his ribs. No. If Sombra was here, then that meant that–

Shit. _Shit_.

That meant the rest of _Talon, Lacroix & O’Deorain_ couldn’t be far behind.

_Fucking fantastic._

“And here I thought my night couldn’t possibly get any worse,” Jack muttered into his glass, taking a deep swallow. “Evening, ‘Livia. You’re looking especially troublesome tonight.”

“ _Ay, pobrecito_ … Careful with that silver tongue, _pendejo_ ,” Sombra purred with a saucy smirk, sliding gracefully onto the barstool beside him, “anyone would think you were flirting with me.”

Sombra was something of an enigma, one that Jack had never really figured out. But then he suspected that the Certified Ethical Hacker preferred it that way. If Sombra wanted you to know something, then you would know it. Otherwise, she was just a black mark on the database. She didn’t work exclusively for Talon, Lacroix and O’Deorain – in fact, there had been a few months that Overwatch had had her on retainer. She tended to sell herself to the highest bidder, or at least the one she could wring the most personal gain from. She was incredibly skilled at all things technological, to a dubious degree if you asked Jack – he had his suspicions that _‘ethical’_ wasn’t the only type of hacking that she performed. As long as she kept herself out of trouble, then Jack didn’t give it any further thought. Besides, if she ever found herself in any real kind of trouble, Jack liked her enough that he would quickly bail her out. Maybe even pro bono.

Watching surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as Sombra flagged the bartender down and ordered a dry martini, _‘extra olives, por favor’_ , Jack stopped her form reaching for her clutch with a gentle touch to her slender wrist and told the man to put it on his tab instead.

“ _¿En serio?_ ” Sombra rolled her eyes at the macho gesture, but didn’t dispute the matter as she uttered her thanks. Making herself comfortable, she regarded Jack with a calculating gaze. “Still the life and soul of the party, I see.”

Jack shrugged, nonplussed at the jab. “You know I don’t thrive well in these types of environments.”

“You look like a creepy old man skulking in the corner,” she insisted, nodding her appreciation to the bartender as he placed her cocktail glass on a napkin and slid it across to her. “You know, it’s kinda unbecoming of a man of your stature to perv on all these young, pretty _chicas_.”

Jack snorted derisively into his glass. “You also know well enough that ‘chicas’ aren’t exactly my forte either.”

“No,” Sombra agreed, swirling the cocktail stick with two olives skewered on it lazily through her drink. “Your tastes lie more in the tall, dark, and _cabrón_ category, mm?”

There was something deep down inside Jack, a morbid curiosity, that was _dying_ to know, _itching_ to ask, fingers flexing around his tumbler as he fought every single impulse in his body that wanted to swivel in his seat and scour the sea of faces to check if **_he_** was there, to see if he would find that oh so familiar head of curls in the crowd. Sombra was watching him from the corner of a meticulously painted eye, that vicious smirk letting him know that she could blatantly read the internal struggles he harboured like they were painted plainly across his face.

Clearing his throat, and knowing he was caught out anyway, Jack swallowed down a modicum of his pride and began inelegantly, “So, uh, speaking of bastards…” that made Sombra cackle with glee, “is the rest of the peanut gallery here too?”

“Oh?” Sombra feigned surprise, like she wasn’t literally sitting there just waiting for him to ask. “And why would you care about that, _papi_?”

“I don’t,” Jack replied, perhaps a tad too quickly if the all-knowing quirk of Sombra’s sculpted brow was any indication. “ _I don’t_. I was just… making conversation.”

“Uh huh, and I _totally_ believe you,” she chuckled with a fond eyeroll. Popping an olive in her mouth, she took her time to chew, staring Jack down the entire time as he suddenly found his glass intensely interesting. Swallowing, she picked up her drink with pointed, manicured fingers and gave it a languid swirl. “It sounds to me like you’re fishing, _Jackie_. You sure you don’t wanna just ask me about Mr. Cheek Implants?”

Now it was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes. “For the last time, he _did not_ have plastic surgery!”

“You can deny it all you want, but that ass just isn’t natural!” Sombra laughed, taking a long pull of her martini while Jack snorted and tried to hide an amused grin in his bourbon.

Of course, it was the natural law of the universe that just as Jack began to unwind and, dare he even think it, _enjoy himself_ , that karma would come along and bitch slap him right back down to earth with an almighty _BANG_.

“Ah, Sombra, there you are.”

Jack felt his blood curdle and his balls promptly shoot back up inside his body. There was no mistaking that rich, French accent.

_Amélie Lacroix_ , one of the named partners of Talon, Overwatch’s biggest major competitor established in Staten Island. The woman was an amazing Prosecuting Attorney (though it physically pained Jack to admit as much), and also a certified she-devil.

Jack was determined not to pay her any attention, but it was hard – Amélie had this effortless _draw_ about her, commanded the attention of the entire room without so much as batting an eyelid. Jack sometimes wondered why the leggy brunette didn’t take up modelling, or go into the adult entertainment business; she was fucking stunning. The woman could make his dick twitch ( _he was gay, not fucking blind_ ) and simultaneously make him want to roundhouse her through the nearest wall. She came from money, and made a shit tonne of it herself; everything about her – from her lacey black Versace dress, to that _‘I’m so much fucking better than you and we **both** know it’_ sneer plastered permanently on those dark painted lips – it all just screamed pretentious bitch.

Then again, maybe Jack was just being prejudiced.

“Evening, Mrs. Lacroix. Been a while,” Jack greeted with a distinctly phony smile that didn’t make it anywhere near his eyes. “I’d say it’s nice to see you, but, y’know – I’d be fucking lying.”

Amélie cut her sharp gaze in his direction, pinned him with the kind of soul-piercing stare one would give a bug while pulling its legs off one by one, before evidently deciding he wasn’t worth the effort of even small talk and addressing Sombra once more.

“Come, _ma chérie_ , you are much too sophisticated to be stuck suffering the drivel of the riffraff.” Looking down the length of her nose at Jack, she sneered before turning on a precarious 5-inch stiletto and sashaying away. “Don’t dawdle, there is a dear friend I would like to introduce you to.”

Sombra looked like she wanted to protest. Jack had it on pretty good authority that the young hacker and the surly Frenchwoman didn’t really see eye-to-eye on most things, but rather tolerated one another for the sake of their careers. But just as she opened her mouth to likely argue being paraded around like some precious china doll, she spied something over Jack’s shoulder that quickly dissuaded her and she promptly snapped her lips shut.

With a feral little smirk, she neatly slid off her stool and smoothed down her dress. “ _Hasta luego_ , _guapo._ Maybe lay off the hard stuff, yeah? Wouldn’t wanna run into trouble and make a scene, would we?”

Jack furrowed his brow. A scene? Why on earth would he cause a–

“I think Jack is seasoned enough by now to handle his liquor, Livvy.”

Oh. _Oh_. That low, smoky voice – like dark chocolate poured over rough gravel. It made Jack’s toes curl instinctually, his hand balling dangerously tight around his tumbler as an electric shiver lanced down his spine.

Ruthless trial lawyer and all-round bad boy of the court, _Gabriel Reyes_ …

…who also just happened to be Jack’s _ex-lover_.

“I guess you would know, _jefe_ ,” Sombra chuckled, the glee evident in the sparkle of her eyes as the barstool to Jack’s right groaned under the man sitting down next to him. “Catch you old losers later,” she winked, and with a pointed look in his new companion’s direction she hissed, _“¡No le saques!”_

“ _¡Lárgate, taradita!_ ” came the growled reply. Jack didn’t speak much Spanish, especially these days, but he knew enough to piece together the meaning from the overall tone of the conversation.

With a flippant wave over her shoulder, Jack shook his head as he watched the two ladies take their leave, before pointedly ignoring his new companion and ordering a strong whiskey. “And make it a double.”

He could feel those intense brown eyes burning a hole into the side of his skull. “I really make you _that_ uncomfortable you gotta get sauced before you’ll even look at me?”

Jack laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “Oh, trust me, you don’t want my mouth to be sober if we’re gonna sit here and shoot the shit.”

“Holding on pretty tight to that grudge, I suppose,” Gabriel hummed, flagging down the bartender to order a white Russian. “You and Sombra seemed rather pally, guess she makes for better company, huh boy scout?”

Jack knew that Gabriel was deliberately goading him, but it was hard not to rise to the bait. It was the first he had properly spoken to the man in close to two years, and looking at him now fucking _hurt_.

Try though he might, his eyes apparently had a mind of their own and he gave the man a quick appraisal. As much as he wished it weren’t true, Gabriel was as gorgeous as ever; with his exotic olive skin and dark curls with trendy fade, his powerful body packed tightly into a black three-piece Dolce suit, the black shirt and contrasting blood red tie complimenting his smouldering brown eyes and dark complexion. The man looked like every straight woman and gay man’s wet dream come to life, and whilst there was a time that Jack would have been falling all over himself of the sight of him in a suit, now his ungodly attractiveness just made him seethe.

Jack thought that he had actually been coping quite well, thought he had put everything that had happened between the two of them to rest, that he had buried all those sour and festering feelings of betrayal and hatred and _pain_ in the blackened depths of his soul – but if the way his traitorous heart skipped a beat (or ten) at a mere glance of the man was any indication, he was apparently sorely mistaken. All of those feelings came screaming back now that the man was here, sat right next to him, drinking and chatting like nothing was amiss, like there was never anything more than this genial camaraderie between them. It infuriated Jack, and it was exceedingly difficult to pretend like he didn’t care.

Because he did, goddam it! _He fucking cared_.

“Yeah, well… Sombra didn’t literally tear my heart out of my chest and dump it in the trash like other people I know, so I guess there’s that,” Jack growled, suddenly glad that they were the only two lonely losers sat at the bar, away from prying ears and nosey gossips.

“Christ,” Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes. “Always with the theatrics, farm boy. You act like you were the only one that was wronged, the only one who felt any fucking heartache.”

“Oh, fuck you, Reyes,” Jack spat, blue eyes flashing maliciously. “Fuck you and your fucking ‘heartache’, like you have any claim to it, you colossal prick. But y’know what? This isn’t an episode of the _Woe is Gabriel_ variety show, it’s a fucking charity event – I’m not hashing this shit out with you right now.”

“Suits me,” Gabriel growled back, stubbornly facing forward and taking a long pull of his drink.

For an agonising number of stress-laden minutes, the two of them sat in a heavy silence, wherein even the bar staff knew wise enough to keep their distance as the tension hung thick above their heads like a dark, ominous cloud.

It was inevitably Jack who cracked first, a healthy dose of southern hospitality beaten into him from a young age where he couldn’t just sit and ignore somebody he knew – especially when they had a rich tapestry of history together. His mother would box his ears if she knew how rude he was being, and that thought alone rankled him enough to at least put up a front of civility.

Jack could do it. He could be the bigger man.

Swallowing down his pride, he took a swig of his whiskey and glanced sidelong at Gabriel. “So, how’s Talon?”

“Like you give a shit,” was the immediate, bristled response.

Jack took a deep breath in through the nose and counted backwards from ten. It really wouldn’t be gentlemanly to sock the man in the face and break his goddamn nose, now would it?

“Come on, Gabe. I’m trying to be fucking cordial here.”

“No,” Gabriel drawled, twisting to better face the blonde, “you’re looking to pick a fight.”

And if that didn’t just hit the nail on the fucking head. At least no one could say he didn’t try!

“Oh, why don’t you just go fuck Lacroix,” he spat, aiming for maximum cruelty and relishing at the way Gabriel flinched. “ _Again_.”

“And there it is.” Gabriel’s sneer was pure malice, his teeth bared like a cornered animal. “So you heard about that.”

“About you fucking one of the name partners in your firm? Who also happens to be your ex? Yeah. Gossip like that tends to make the rounds.”

There was a stagnant pause, where Gabriel dropped his gaze. “Gerard left her again.”

If there was one thing Jack could literally _not_ care less about, it was the romantic woes of Amélie ‘Widowmaker’ Lacroix and her estranged husband. “Oh boo-fucking-hoo. So her husband left her for, what, _the fiftieth goddamn time?_ Change the record, will ya?”

“You don’t have to be such a bitch about it. She was upset, feeling vulnerable, so she came to me. And you know what? I was feeling fucking upset and vulnerable, too.”

Jack almost sputtered into his whiskey he was so enraged. “Don’t even go there, Reyes. _You_ felt upset? What about _me_ , huh? _I’m_ the one you screwed over! _I’m_ the one you left behind!”

“Get off your damn high horse, Morrison,” Gabriel snapped right back. “I didn’t even know what I was _supposedly_ leaving behind!”

Jack reeled back, like the words had physically struck him. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the one that refused to _‘put a label’_ on whatever the fuck we were,” Gabriel growled, eyes narrowed. “Sure, you would suck my dick and let me shove my tongue up your ass, but god forbid that after nearly three years together you should call me your boyfriend or some shit.”

Jack felt his cheeks dust pink. “We’re both extremely busy men, Gabriel. I didn’t know what to call our… our…”

“Our what? Our messy trysts in hall closets? Our takeaway ‘dinner dates’ squeezed into an hour between clients? What the fuck _would_ you call that, huh?”

Jack faltered for a moment, not really armed with much of a comeback to that.

Okay, so maybe Gabriel had a point, as much as it galled him to admit it. They didn’t exactly have the most stable foundation for a relationship, the two of them fitting in dates and quickies around jampacked schedules. There hadn’t been much time for romance or wooing, for movie nights and impulsive gifts and the kinds of things that Jack liked to lavish on his partners under normal circumstances. When they had first started messing around, they were both younger and fresh-faced, working their way up the corporate ladder. Back then they had had much more time for dating and dispensing affection, for holding hands while walking through the park and lazy makeout sessions at their respective apartments, when they celebrated things like birthdays and holidays and month-long anniversaries after mutually deciding to become exclusive.

It had all been so simple then…

“Well whatever it was, whatever we were,” Jack growled, snapping himself out of that painful trip down memory lane, “doesn’t change the fact that _you’re_ still the one that left!”

“You could have come with me, you had the choice, Jack,” Gabriel taunted, prodding Jack in the chest with an accusatory finger, “but _you_ chose to stay behind, so don’t try to pin that shit on me like it was all my fault.”

“Oh yeah, some fucking choice!” Jack scoffed, batting Gabriel’s hand away. “Leave Overwatch and my senior position and everything else I’ve worked so fucking hard for over the years, to what? Join Talon? Where I start from the bottom with Lacroix’s heel in my back and have a front row seat to your sordid affair? Maybe I could fetch you guys a cum rag with your coffees, huh? Wouldn’t that be a fucking gas.”

“If you had come with me, I would never have even looked twice at Amélie,” Gabriel disputed, his shoulders sagging like the wind was suddenly gone from his sails. When he looked back at Jack, his eyes were full of something dangerously close to remorse, and it panged hard in Jack’s chest. “You were it for me, Jackie, all I ever wanted.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jack snarled, not ready to hear the man use his old petname against him. “You lost the right to call me that when you walked out the door and straight into the arms of somebody else. Christ, Gabe, did I really meant so fucking little to you?”

Gabriel scrubbed a hand down his face with a weary sigh. “Don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t like I left _to be with_ Amélie! I left for the business opportunity – I wasn’t going anywhere in Overwatch, there was no place for me there, and you know it. Amélie offered me more high profile cases, a better position–”

Jack literally couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, fucking _under her_.”

“Real mature, Jack,” Gabriel chided, rolling his eyes like he was speaking to some dumb kid. “You can’t sit there and give me the whole honourable boy scout routine and expect me to swallow that bullshit.”

“You never were much for swallowing…” Jack retorted snidely, just because he felt like being an ass. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please, pull the other one! It’s been, what, nearly two years since I moved?”

“Not like I was counting.” _He was_.

“You’re telling me, in all that time, you didn’t go out and get a little action yourself? Used to be you couldn’t last more than a week without me bending you over the nearest available surface and _rocking your world_.”

Jack chose to ignore the suggestive purr in Gabriel’s tone. “It was good stress relief.”

“Uh huh,” Gabriel chuckled darkly, raising his glass to his lips. “That why you’re being such a sour puss now, then? Haven’t had anybody ram the Monday blues out of ya?”

“…I never said that.” It was totally true, Jack was currently on one of the worst dry spells of his life. He was usually too busy or too tired or just too damn disinterested in any potential prospects to bother with anything or anyone. Not to mention that his heart was still on the mend and his head all over the place from the breakup, he couldn’t just give his body over to the first available opportunity like certain other assholes could.

Still, his little white lie seemed to capture Gabriel’s keen interest. “Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Why does it matter?” Jack hedged, hoping he would just drop it already. But Gabriel was a bullheaded type, always had been, like a goddamn dog with a bone when he was on the scent of something juicy.

“It doesn’t. I’m just… curious.” Gabriel downed the rest of his drink and pushed the glass away. “Guess it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, it’s not like you’ll ever find anyone who could make you scream like I could.”

Jack quickly connected the dots and promptly burst out laughing. “Oh my god, this is priceless! You’re actually _jealous_.”

“As if,” Gabriel huffed, crossing his arms and stubbornly looking away so that Jack couldn’t get a further read on him.

“You totally are!” Jack snickered, in his element now as he leaned into the sulking man’s personal space. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? Can’t handle the thought of somebody else’s _big, strong hands_ on my naked skin? Of somebody else holding me down, finding my sweet spot and making me sing?”

“Fuck off,” Gabriel growled, shoulder-checking the blonde back over to his own side. If Jack was telling the truth (and Gabriel sincerely doubted it!) there were only a handful of potentials – especially if they were the one on top. Jack liked to give as good as he got, so for him to seek out someone to dominate him like he claims, they had to be of a certain type and build, and that really narrowed the list even further. “It was Reinhardt, right? That giant German fucker.”

Jack gave a coy one shouldered shrug. It’s not like he’d never entertained the thought of Reinhardt in such a manner, even if they had been nothing more than good friends all these years.

“Nah, couldn’t be,” Gabriel quickly dismissed, eyes drawn to the colossal German as he laughed raucously across the room. “Rumour has it he and Ana are a thing.”

“Ana and I have known each other since we were kids,” Jack countered with a teasing grin. “We’ve always shared our toys.”

That gave Gabriel pause, his jaw working an agitated tic. “I still call bullshit.”

“Guess you’ll never know,” Jack hummed, relishing in Gabriel’s palpable irritation. Tch, let the bastard think whatever he wanted. Jack hoped the thought of him with Reinhardt, _with anybody_ , haunted the man’s every waking dream, just like the thought of Gabriel and Lacroix haunted his own. The mental image of them naked and sweating was forever seared into his mind’s eye; Gabriel’s big hands and wicked mouth mapping out every inch of her perfect fucking body, pleasuring, _worshipping_ , just like he used to do with Jack, it was enough to make his stomach churn and his heart wrench miserably.

After everything he put him through, Gabriel deserved to feel the exact same raw turmoil that Jack did on a daily basis.

Just as Jack thought to maybe tell Gabriel this, to really drive the point home, the awkward clearing of a throat caught their collective attention, and they simultaneously swivelled in their seats to see Lúcio and Hana standing behind them looking rather… uncomfortable.

“Uh, hey, sorry,” Lúcio mumbled, timidly wringing his hands together. “I hope we’re not interrupting…”

“As a matter of fact–” Gabriel began, his scowl downright murderous.

“Reyes was just leaving actually,” Jack butt in before he could finish, giving Gabriel a pointed look as he coldly dismissed him. “We’re done here.”

Those dark eyes narrowed in something like contempt, and Jack was actually quite surprised (disappointed, maybe?) that Gabriel apparently wasn’t going to put up a fight to stay. Throwing some bills down on the bar – including a very generous tip – he rose to his feet and straightened the lapels of his jacket. “Sure, whatever. Have a good evening, Morrison.”

“Have a nice life, Reyes,” Jack sassed right back, unable to stop himself from watching the man walk away.

Waiting until he was sure Gabriel was out of ear shot, he let out a long, exhausted breath and slumped against the bar. “You two are literal lifesavers, thanks.”

Lúcio chuckled good naturedly. “Yeah, that looked kinda… _intense._ ”

“We woulda come over sooner,” Hana said, tucking her hair behind her ear, “but Ms. Amari said we should leave you two alone…”

Jack shook his head, his lips a thin line of disdain. _Meddlesome woman_. Reinhardt needed to put that jackal on a leash!

“Well, thanks for intervening all the same,” he assured them, clapping Lúcio on the shoulder and giving Hana a grateful nod. “The stress of that conversation can’t be good for my blood pressure…”

“Speaking of stress and ways to alleviate such worries,” Lúcio grinned impishly, giving Jack’s bicep a friendly squeeze. “Hana and I are gonna hit up that new club downtown, Blackwatch! You game?”

Jack snorted a self-depreciating laugh. “I think I’m, uh, a little long in the tooth to be partying with you young punks.”

“Oh don’t give us that nonsense!” Hana protested, hands fisted adorably on her hips. Jack knew she was trying for stern, but her cute little face and short-ass stature made it hard to take her seriously. “You’re only as old as the one night stand you feel up~”

That caused Jack to suck his whiskey down the wrong pipe, Hana giggling and thumping his back as he choked out a cough.

“Yeah, man! Come on,” Lúcio wheedled, “when’s the last time you went out and had a bit of fun, huh? That you did something _for you_?”

“He’s right, Jack! I don’t know if it’s possible to _literally die_ from sexual frustration, but you’re really testing the boundaries! It’d make all of our lives a lot easier if you just got laid already!”

“Jesus, Hana!” Jack barked, flabbergasted at her brazen attitude.

“I’m just saying!” she giggled, sticking her tongue out like the adorable little dork she was.

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle, his mind racing. There were so many reasons that it was a bad idea; he was already pushing his limits with alcohol, he should really get home to his cat Tchaikovsky, he was mentally drained after his run-in with Gabriel – to name but a few.

So really, no-one was more surprised than himself when he found himself downing the last of his drink and exclaiming; “You know what? Fuck it. Count me in!”

“Yes!” Lúcio whooped, Hana giving it an “Aw, yeah!” the two sharing a high-five like Jack agreeing to be seen anywhere outside of the office was a major achievement. Which it kind of was, to be fair.

The celebrations were cut short, however, when Hana gave him a blatant onceover with a critical eye – apparently not satisfied with what she saw when she tsked and shook her head.

“No, no, no – this won’t do at all!” she proclaimed, linking her arm through Jack’s and steering him toward the exit. “We gotta swing by your apartment and get you into something a bit more… _funky_.”

“What’s wrong with my suit?” Jack scowled, taking great offence to the slight. “It’s Armani!”

“It’s not the twentieth century – you are not clubbing in a two-piece, _grandpa_ …” she lectured, tugging him along like an unruly brat.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Morrison,” Lúcio snickered, trailing along behind them, “we’ll take good care of you!”

Somehow, Jack sincerely doubted that.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the trio, a certain devious hacker was eavesdropping from a shadowed corner of the room, a wicked smirk in place as she watched them leave. “ _Perfecta_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for chapter 1! What did you guys think? I've read through everything more than once, but if anything is off or doesn't make any sense, or if I've missed something out, please let me know!
> 
> As I mentioned in my first fic, I will always endeavor to have my works completed before I post anything - and this one is donezo, so you don't have to worry about being left hanging or anything frustrating like that! It's not going to be anything too terribly long, chapter wise anyway! And Chapter 2 will be along shortly, so I hope to see y'all there!
> 
> Stay safe, until next time!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> ¿Me extrañaste? - Miss me?  
> Ay, pobrecito - Oh, poor dear  
> pendejo - asshole  
> ¿En serio? - seriously?  
> chicas - ladies  
> cabrón - bastard  
> papi - daddy  
> ma chérie - my darling  
> Hasta luego, guapo - see you later, handsome  
> jefe - boss  
> ¡No le saques! - don't be a coward!  
> ¡Lárgate, taradita! - get lost, dumbass!  
> Perfecta - perfect


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "High Noons all 'round!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans and old dads getting nasty...

**Chapter 2**

_This is biological stasis_   
_My mood's shifting too manic places_   
_Wish I laughed and kept the good friendships_   
_Watch life, here I go again_

The club scene hadn’t changed much form Jack’s years as a junior. Sure the music was different, a lot more techno and, what was it Lucio had called it– _trance?_ The strobe lights were also a bit much, in his personal opinion. But everything else was just as he remembered. The deafening volume of the beat, the heavy bass vibrating through the soles of his feet, the sweltering heat and the scent of fresh sweat, the bodies packed so tightly on the dancefloor everyone became one sentient, writhing mass.

When they first arrived, Jack felt absurd. Hana and Lucio had raided his wardrobe at home and managed to find an old pair of tight black jeans so lewdly snug that they would be as well painted on. “They highlight your amazing buns, Jack! That peach is juicy and deserves to be acknowledged!” Hana had squealed when he tried them on, surprised that they actually still fit, and that was the end of that argument, apparently. The outfit was completed with a casual light blue shirt that complimented his cornflower blue eyes, according to Lúcio, the young man decidedly not impressed when Jack had calmly asked if he should wear cufflinks. Instead, Lúcio made him roll up the sleeves to the elbows, insisting that Jack had the kind of impressive forearms that would catch a lot of attention. “Gotta flaunt what ya got, sir!” he had said.

And don’t even get him _started_ on what he’s got going on underneath… He could feel his underwear riding up his ass and it was taking every ounce of willpower he had not to fidget to try and dislodge it. Christ, he was never letting either one of them back into his drawers ever again!

When they first arrived at Blackwatch, Hana and Lúcio made a beeline for the bar, Ms. Song positively beaming as she waved a hand overhead and giddily exclaimed, “Oy, Cowboy!”

Jack was confused for all of 2.5 seconds, before following along behind the pair and catching first glimpse of one of the two bartenders on duty. Cowboy was, well… _very apt_. The young man was wearing a red plaid shirt and worn ripped jeans, a giant ass golden belt buckle with ‘BAMF’ emblazoned boldly across it, and, because no cowboy look would be complete without it, _a goddamn Stetson._

The man was admittedly very attractive, with shaggy brown hair that looked as soft as it did wild, some budding facial scruff that promised to develop into quite the remarkable beard if he kept at it but that was little more than a soul patch at the moment, and the type of easy grin that would put anyone at ease in his company.

Head snapping up at Hana’s exclamation, his charming brown eyes lit up at the sight of his friends. “Luci, Hana! Glad to see y’all could make it!” It was hard to hear him over the thumping music and general rabble of the other patrons swarming the bar, though Jack could hear enough to ascertain a very alluring twang to the man’s accent. Texan, if he had to warrant a guess. “Managed to sneak away from that snooze-fest function then, ey?”

“Something like that,” Lúcio chuckled, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Don’t know how y’all do it,” the man rambled on, clearly unaware of the sudden tension, nor the fact that Lúcio was none-too-subtly trying to warn him to put a metaphorical sock in it. “Y’all’re living day saints for puttin’ up with them stiffs in suits – and outside of work hours, too! Man, I’d rather bareback a beehive than suffer one of those pretentious pricks!”

“Uh, funny you should mention that, actually…” Lúcio hedged, casting a brief, apologetic glance at Jack over his shoulder.

“Jesse McCree, meet Jack Morrison,” Hana butt in, hiding a giggle behind her hand. “Senior ‘Pretentious Prick’ at Overwatch. Ya know, _where we both work_ …”

The handsome bartender, Jesse, had the good grace to look mortified, those high cheekbones dusting a very pretty pink. “Oh, ah, sorry there, pardner – I didn’t mean no offence! Didn’t realise y’all were together,” he cringed, throwing blatant reproachful looks at his two gleefully tittering _ex_ -friends.

“If I was easily insulted by the thoughtless words of those who don’t even know me, I surely wouldn’t be the major success that I am today,” Jack shrugged nonchalantly, the young bartender looking thoroughly chastised as he demurely dipped his gaze. But still, Jack wouldn’t be a cutthroat businessman if he didn’t seize upon an opportunity when it unexpectedly presented itself. “However,” he began, capturing Jesse’s attention once more, “it does seem pretty rude to greet a potential customer with an insult. I mean, it would be a damn shame if the upper management were to find out that their staff are so poorly trained in etiquette – wouldn’t you agree?”

To be perfectly frank, the ‘upper management’ would likely have very little to say on the matter, considering that Jesse was fucking them on the reg – but this handsome blonde stranger didn’t need to know about any of that.

“Well, now, I reckon am gettin’ the cut of you, Mr. Jack Morrison! But I like your cavalier style there, pardner…” Leaning a forearm against the bar, Jesse tipped his hat back and flashed Jack a flirty wink. “What’ll it be, darlin’? On the house, a’course, on account of my bein’ so… _impolite_.”

“That’s more like it,” Jack hummed with a sly smirk, Hana and Lúcio watching the exchange from the sidelines with (somewhat) affectionate eyerolls. “I’ll take a bourbon on the rocks, sweetheart.”

“Flattery will get ya everywhere with me, doll,” Jesse chuckled, his warm brown eyes glittering with delight. “But I ain’t fetchin’ ya no second-rate dishwater. Y’all’re here to have a good night, yeah? Lemme fix ya somethin’ special, somethin’ to put hop in yer step and a kick in yer pants!”

“Jess makes THE best cocktails,” Hana smiled, draping herself over the bar to Jack’s right.

“The _bomb_!” Lúcio agreed from his left.

In the spirit of the night – which was to forget and have fun and _live_ – Jack grinned and slapped a hand down on the bar. “Alright – let’s get fucked up!”

Hana and Lúcio cheered, and Jesse threw his head back and gave a rich belly laugh. “High Noons all ‘round!”

*

Jack never did have much rhythm for dancing, even when he was young and _feelin’ spry_. No, any time he was required to step out onto a dancefloor he usually left the slick moves to Gabriel, who was unnaturally gifted with a multitude of talents, including cooking, sewing, and dancing. Jack blamed his Hispanic upbringing – the man could mambo and salsa like a man possessed, could twirl and dip and lead Jack about the floor and make him feel like he was a rhythm _god_ when Jack knew for certain that he was born with the terrible affliction of two left feet. Luckily for Jack, in this type of environment, one didn’t so much ‘dance’ as they did dry hump their partner’s leg. A dirty bit of uncoordinated _bump ‘n’ grind_ Jack could certainly handle.

What he couldn’t handle, apparently, was his alcohol.

Jack didn’t know what the fuck was in those High Noon cocktails the cute cowboy dosed them up with, but what he _did_ know was that after only three of the damn things, he was well and truly hammered. He felt limber and loose in a way that he hadn’t felt in – shit, he couldn’t even recall the last time he felt this unhinged, this high, _this fucking good_.

The music was blaring some remixed pop song he couldn’t name if you paid him, the lights were too bright and flashing across his face at regular intervals (and he had enough presence of mind to hope that nobody here was epileptic), there was sweat beading across his forehead and running down his back, clinging his shirt to his skin and matting his hair to the back of his neck, there was a body brushing his shoulder to the right, and one to the left, and there was somebody practically grinding their ass up on his dick in front – and Jack was fucking _living_ for it.

He had no idea who the man getting better acquainted with his junk was, or better yet, where Hana and Lúcio had disappeared off to – and he was pleasantly surprised to discover that he didn’t give a single fuck. They guy rubbing up on him was fairly young and good looking, and obviously as inebriated as Jack currently was, so he didn’t have to worry too much about morals or taking advantage.

Ah, the beauty of picking up nameless faces at clubs.

He almost fancied his chances with the sexy cowboy bartender, their flirty banter throughout the evening stoking a simmering fire low in Jack’s belly. Jesse was so easy going and fun to talk to, could chat up a storm with total strangers whilst mixing a dangerous concoction of spirits like it was as easy as breathing. He was charming and funny, and it certainly didn’t hurt that he was so easy on the eyes-- and the ears! Jack had always been especially susceptible to a man with an accent, and Jesse’s was just pure, liquid sin, _fuck_. He equally enthusiastic about the hat, could imagine the young man wearing it, _only it_ , whilst saddled over his lap and bouncing on his dick like Jack was some wild bucking bronco.

When he had previously brought up the topic of the Stetson, Jesse had chuckled, flashing those pearly whites in a blinding grin. “It goes with the aesthetic!” he had winked.

“Or does the aesthetic go with the hat?” Jack had countered with a flirtatious grin, leaning over the bar just to be that little bit closer to the man.

Jesse chuckled, the sound so rich and pleasing to Jack. “You got me there, pardner!”

“For what it’s worth,” Jack rumbled, letting his gaze wander brazenly over what he could see of Jesse’s body, “I’ve never met anybody who could pull off a Stetson quite like you, _cowboy_.”

“Why I do declare,” Jesse had hummed, leaning forward to meet Jack halfway, eyes gleaming dangerously, “I do believe you’re puttin’ the moves on me, _Mr. Suit_.”

Jack licked his bottom lip, maintaining their heated eye contact. “That’s _Mr. Stiff_ to you, kid.” Jesse bit his lip with a wicked smirk, and Jack wanted to pull it free just so that he could sink his own teeth into the plush flesh. “When do you get off, sweet thing?”

“Well now, if that ain’t a loaded question! See, I’m a good boy, so usually I wait until I’m given permission,” Jesse purred, jumping all over the double entendre like he was born to twist words. “But if’n you’re talkin’ about work, I normally have things squared up by around twelve-thirty. Why, you gon’ wait for lil’ ol’ me, darlin’?”

“If you follow orders as well as you claim, I reckon I just might…”

“You are a dangerous, dangerous man, Jack Morrison. Reckon I kinda like that about ya…”

The air between them seemed to crackle with a charged, erotic kind of energy, Jack’s heart hammering against his ribs in anticipation of what that might mean. But just as sure as Jack had been that Jesse was going to lean straight across the bar and kiss the life out of him right then and there, Jesse’s co-worker seemed to materialise out of thin air and whipped the cowboy right on the ass with a painful snap of a dishtowel, shooting him a disapproving glower when Jesse yelped and turned around.

“Back to work, loverboy!” the green haired punk had scoffed, gesturing to the sea of waiting patrons all around. “I’m not working my ass off just so you can play hooky with the customers-- no matter how hot they are.”

Jack was pissed, sure, but he could hardly blame the guy, the bar was heaving with tightly packed bodies all looking to be plied with more booze. Jesse had muttered a sullen _“Sorry, Genj”_ and offered Jack a regretful shrug before sauntering away to serve a young blonde girl that had, admittedly, been waiting quite a while. Jack could do little else but watch him leave, taking with him their little bubble of sexual tension, before reluctantly stepping away to make room for those waiting impatiently behind him.

Jack didn’t see Jesse again after that. He had gone back to the bar a few times, looking to maybe pick back up where they had left off, only to find the cowboy replaced with a sweet young woman with long brown hair and a cute smattering of freckles across her nose.

Jack was feeling pretty dejected, to tell the truth, but was determined not to let his buzz go to waste, instead hitting the dancefloor to try his luck with the throngs of potential talent out there. Jesse had thoroughly stirred up his dormant arousal, his veins burning with desire and skin buzzing with barely constrained energy, incapable of being ignored.

Jack _needed_ to get laid tonight, or he was going to lose his fucking mind.

Hence the situation he currently found himself in with the nameless dude grinding all up in his business. Jack’s dick was 100% on board with the sudden attention, and subsequently so was Jack. It shouldn’t be hard to transition from here to taking this cute little thing home and railing him proper, then Jack could finally get rid of some of the pent-up frustration that has been festering in his gut for the last few months.

Oh, who the fuck was he kidding – for the last _two years_.

Jack was contemplating making his move. Maybe he would nibble on the guy’s neck, get his attention, then take his breath away with a filthy hot kiss. Then maybe they could make out a bit, right here, in front of everybody, before Jack would none-too-subtly ask if he fancied a ‘nightcap’ back at his place. Then he would make this young, lithe, fragile little body _scream_.

Strategy in place, he brushed his nose up the sweaty column of the guy’s neck, teeth bared and ready to _bite_ \-- when out of nowhere, Jack was suddenly yanked backward by the hips, his feet stumbling awkwardly over one another until he found his balance up against a solid wall of muscle at his back.

The dude looked as bewildered as Jack felt, curious eyes peering over their shoulder to see where their dance partner had suddenly gone. Jack was milliseconds from delivering a swift elbow right into the gut of his captor – he was _so fucking close_ to sealing the deal, only to be cock-blocked at the last conceivable second! But then the voice belonging to the strong hands holding his hips in a vice-like grip spoke up, and Jack felt the air punched from his lungs in a breathy gasp.

“Get lost, _puta madre_ ,” that deep baritone Jack knew all too intimately well growled out at the thoroughly confused sod. “This one’s already taken.”

The younger man looked cautiously at Jack, almost like he wanted to be sure that Jack was okay with the new situation, and when Jack didn’t make a move to refute the claim, or even put up a struggle to get away, the stranger simply shrugged and melded seamlessly back into the crowd of undulating bodies. Unwittingly leaving Jack with an apex predator.

“Really, boy scout? A fucking _twink_?” Gabriel growled against the shell of his ear, sending a dangerous kind of shiver down the length of Jack’s spine. “Since when do you prey on the weak?”

“Since none of your business,” Jack hissed back, his jaw set in a stubborn line. And could someone please explain to him why he wasn’t trying to get the fuck out of dodge right now?!

“Poor little _culo_. You would have _destroyed_ him, Jackie,” Gabriel chuckled, low and dark and so toe-curlingly seductive. “Something so small and… _delicate_ , wouldn’t be enough to satiate the kind of hunger I know you have lurking inside.”

“And, what? _You_ can?” Jack asked with a bravado he definitely didn’t feel. If Gabriel hadn’t been holding him so firmly against his sturdy body, Jack was sure his knees would have buckled by now.

“Oh, you _know_ I can, _ángel_ ,” Gabriel purred salaciously, those big, strong, fucking wonderful hands squeezing the jut of his hips in the kind of possessive embrace that shoulder really piss Jack off, but that in reality had the complete opposite effect. “You know perfectly well that I can give you _exactly_ what you want.”

“That’s awful presumptuous,” Jack scowled, all while his own traitorous body seemed perfectly content to melt right into Gabriel’s dominating hold. “Maybe I don’t want what you got to offer, Reyes.”

But Gabriel wasn’t fooled for a goddamn second. “That so? I notice you’re not putting up much of a fight, _corazón._ ”

And, just to be a dick about it, because it’s like Gabriel can’t fucking help himself, he yanked Jack’s ass flush against the cradle of his hips and ground forward, moving them to the hypnotic pulse of the beat in a dirty roll better suited to fucking than dancing.

Jack bit down hard on his tongue to stop the whorish moan he just knew would have escaped otherwise. He wanted to be mad, wanted to punch Gabriel in the throat (or the dick, he wasn’t fussy) and storm off, maybe find that twink or, _fuck_ , track down Jesse, and take him home with him. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and his broken past as he possibly could, wanted to make new memories and new mistakes with somebody, _anybody_ , other than Gabriel fucking Reyes…

…so then why did he feel so helplessly rooted to the spot? Why did those familiar hands and that exhilarating warmth turn his insides to liquid want? Why did that heady scent of woodsmoke and comforting touch soothe his soul? He so badly wanted to hate this man, but it seemed that they were connected on some sort of spiritual level that escaped his mortal comprehension.

It seemed no matter how hard he tried, he would always find himself back in Gabriel’s orbit sooner or later.

Gabriel, meanwhile, was cautiously optimistic with the turn of events. After their little spat at the gala earlier that night, he was sure the former farm boy would sooner sock him in the eye (or dick, because Jack wasn’t fussy) than he would entertain the notion of Gabriel holding him so intimately ever again. So far, the blonde spitfire hadn’t put up his dukes, and Gabriel’s body parts hadn’t yet been subjected to his potent temper – Jack was mighty fierce when he was upset, and not afraid to play dirty, poster boy image be damned. So Gabriel held him tenderly but firmly, like one would a skittish animal that was likely to bolt.

_Or bite._

Little did Jack know, Gabriel had entered the oppressive atmosphere of the club not ten minutes after the blonde and his friends had. Sombra had ‘overheard’ the trio making plans to hit the town after the fundraiser, and just so happened to casually mention as much in passing. To Gabriel. Along with the name of the club.

And which street to find it on.

_Funny, that._

At first, Gabriel had only entertained the idea of going out of an unrelenting sort of curiosity. Jack? In a _club_? _On a school night?_ This he had to see! Not to mention that he had first-hand experience with the atrocity that was Jack’s two left feet, knew that the blonde could not waltz a square to save the life of dear Mama Morrison.

So then, _why?_

It really didn’t take long upon entering the club for his genuine ( _morbid_ ) curiosity to evolve into utter disbelief. Gabriel had no fucking idea the boy scout even _owned_ a pair of jeans that fucking tight, his delectable little peach and the goddamn _outline of his cock_ on shameless display – it was obscene! That disbelief then boiled into a type of bitter jealousy that burned like acid in his veins as he watched Jack chat up the boyish bartender, who, Gabriel could begrudgingly admit, was actually pretty hot.

For a fucking _city cowboy_ , anyways.

Moments before he thought to go and intervene, their interaction becoming way too cozy for his tastes, the kid behind the bar was pulled back to work by his fellow employee, saving Gabriel the hassle of making a scene. Luckily, the handsome cowboy was swiftly replaced by a no-less attractive young lady – but Gabriel needn’t worry himself with that, Jack wouldn’t be interested in the cute brunette. He watched as the young male bartender, suddenly looking nervous, made his way across the room and disappeared through a door that Gabriel guessed led up to the darkened VIP area.

Curious, but not his business. His only concern this evening had flaxen blonde hair and baby blue eyes – and an ass that just would. Not. _Quit._

From his vantage point in a darkened, secluded corner, he scoffed derisively to himself as he caught sight of Jack searching for the wayward cowboy, disappointment colouring the furrow of his brow and the thinning of his lips when he was nowhere to be found. His two friends had long since abandoned the blonde, probably assured in the knowledge that Jack would be in safe hands with the urban cowboy – leaving Jack to drown his frustration in more alcohol before immersing himself in the writhing masses on the dancefloor.

And that’s where Gabriel had tracked him down, getting handsy with some poor chump that wouldn’t be enough to slake Jack’s lust for _ten minutes_ let alone an entire night.

Really, it was Gabriel’s _duty_ to save the blonde from a miserable night of dissatisfaction. Right?

_Right._

He had a couple of different scenarios in mind to break the two apart; some moderately polite, others not so much… but then it looked like Jack was going in for the kill, about to lay his mouth on that sweaty skin, and Gabriel’s body was moving before his mind could even catch up to his actions, his arms snatching the blonde away in a possessive outburst before someone else could experience the fucking _marvel_ that was Jack Morrison.

Consequently, the rather precarious situation the pair now found themselves embroiled in, this delicate stalemate in which neither knew which move to make next.

The longer the impasse lasted, the more Jack could feel his resolve crumbling, like tissue paper trying to stand up against a raging storm. Did he really want to go down this road? Down a path already engraved with the footprints of his past?

While he debated internally, Gabriel leaned forward and gave a harsh nip to that little sweet spot at the hinge of his jaw, just under his ear, that never failed to kickstart his libido. The man wasn’t playing fair, and that knowing chuckle pressed against the skin of his throat told Jack that Gabriel knew _exactly_ what the fuck he was doing. Unfortunately, Jack’s dick was in the driver’s seat tonight, and had apparently already made the decision for him as Jack grabbed Gabriel’s hands and trailed them from his hips down to cradle precariously close to his groin instead.

“This changes nothing,” Jack insisted, even as he hooked an arm around Gabriel’s thick neck and moulded his back to Gabriel’s front. “I still fucking hate you.”

“Noted,” Gabriel growled, fingers biting into the V of Jack’s groin. “Bring it on, _puta_.”

* * *

Gabriel moved like sin incarnate. The stylish sway of his tapered hips and the smooth roll of those powerful shoulders should _definitely_ be illegal.

Once he had effectively given the green light for, well, whatever the hell this was going to be, Gabriel had become an unstoppable force of goddamn nature. Strong hands were simultaneously guiding his movements and feeling him up at every available opportunity, pawing at his chest and tickling down his sides, roving over his toned stomach and gripping tight onto his muscular thighs. Jack could only throw his head back and hold on for the ride. Gabriel could play his body like a fiddle, choreograph his every move like a marionette – and Jack fucking loved it.

On a daily basis, Jack was expected to shoulder a lot of responsibility, where he held the very livelihoods of his clients in the palm of his hands – it was incredibly stressful, and he had to be 100% in control of every tiny little aspect at every single moment. Therefore, there was something so cathartic and freeing about surrendering control to somebody else, in just letting go and trusting someone to take care of your every need. Gabriel had always had his back, had always been that one somebody that Jack could trust implicitly.

It was nice to see that some things hadn’t changed.

Hot lips trailed down the side of Jack’s neck, and he turned his head to catch Gabriel’s mouth in a messy kiss. Gabriel’s movements faltered for a beat, caught off guard by the sudden attack, but once he got over his initial shock, he trailed a hand up to Jack’s throat, holding him in place as he devoured that mouth whole.

Jack moaned, his body _singing_ with desire. If he had any braincells to spare, he might have been more embarrassed about essentially making out in the middle of a crowded area, but as it stood, he didn’t have any neurons to spare, and thus he didn’t give a single rat’s ass who got an eyeful of them tongue fucking each other right there in public.

“ _Dios mio_ ,” Gabriel groaned, the words barely audible over the obnoxious pulse of the music. Jack tried to chase his mouth, a whine threatening to spill out when Gabriel tightened his grip around his throat in warning. “I didn’t think I would ever say this, but – god _damn_ I have missed your mouth, Morrison.”

Jack gave a breathy chuckle and licked his lips, highlighting said feature to Gabriel’s ravenous gaze. “You of all people should know it’s one of my best assets, Reyes.”

“Gets you into as much trouble as it does save your ass,” Gabriel scoffed, giving that pouty bottom lip an impish little nip. “Speaking of…” Gabriel spun Jack to face him, his hands scorching a path down his muscular back before sliding over the swell of Jack’s ass, grabbing a greedy handful of each cheek. “Now _there’s_ a fine asset…”

Jack grinned, pressing in tight to Gabriel as he fingered the lapels of his jacket. “You’re still wearing your suit.”

“I wasn’t even sure I was going to come,” Gabriel explained with a shrug, trying for aloof. “Figured you might knee me in the balls.”

“There’s still time…” Jack smirked, sliding a leg between Gabriel’s thighs and rubbing against the answering hardness he found there. Gabriel’s eyes darkened to fathomless pools of pure lust, using his leverage on Jack’s ass to really grind against him. “You look so fucking hot in a suit. Look so prim and put together. Makes me wanna just mess you up, _ruin you_ …”

Gabriel surged forward and captured that wicked tongue in a filthy kiss, his tongue pressing hot and fast and deep down Jack’s throat. Jack wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s neck and threw himself bodily into the embrace, hiking a leg up over Gabriel’s hip and trusting the man to take the brunt of their combined weight. Gabriel was working on autopilot, bearing Jack’s weight with one hand gripping the blonde’s thigh and the other squeezing the back of his neck.

All sense of time and situational awareness escape the two men, the sights and sounds and smells all around them muting into the background, becoming little more than static, white noise.

Irrelevant. Inconsequential.

_Just like the good old days._

The overwhelming need for air was what eventually broke them apart, both of them panting for breath in the stifling heat of the packed club, lungs burning and eyes glassy as they held onto one another fiercely, like letting go now would shatter this tentative truce they had forged this night.

Jack found he simply could not take his eyes off of Gabriel, desperately drinking in his every feature like a man starving, like he might not ever get the chance to be this close, this intimate, ever again.

Perhaps he wouldn’t.

He found himself smiling softly, in spite of the frantic hammering of his heart and the insistent throb of his arousal.

“Take me home, Gabi…”

Gabriel gathered Jack close, pressing a loving kiss to the corner of the blonde’s smiling lips. “Always, _mi sol._ Let’s get out of here.”

Jack couldn’t move fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, what a cliffhanger though...
> 
> As always, feel free to drop by and say 'hey'! Even if it's just to tell me what was wrong/missing/weird etc!
> 
> Stay safe, guys! More to come soon!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> puta madre - motherfucker  
> culo - ass  
> ángel - angel  
> corazón - sweetheart  
> puta - whore  
> dios mio - my god  
> mi sol - my sunshine


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Hold on tight, Jackie – Papi’s gonna make you wear your knees as earmuffs...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who ordered the R76, extra spice??
> 
> Order up!

**Chapter 3**

_Holding on so tight to this status_   
_It's not real but I'll try to grab it_   
_Keep myself in beautiful places_   
_Paradise is in my hands_

It was alarmingly easy to fall back into old routines.

The cab ride to Jack’s luxurious penthouse loft was fraught with giddy excitement, the two men acting like lovestruck teenagers and scandalising the driver of their cab. Their lust was like a tangible presence, making it almost impossible to keep their hands and mouths to themselves. At one stage, when Jack was inches away from climbing into Gabriel’s lap, the cabbie had to pointedly clear his throat and ask them to buckle up. The tips of Jack’s ears burned red at his behaviour, but it didn’t stop him from reaching for Gabriel’s hand, twining their fingers together just to keep the connection between them.

When they pulled up to the curb, Jack paid the driver (along with an apologetic tip) and they stumbled into the building, stealing heated kisses and cheeky gropes as they waited for the elevator. Once the doors dinged shut behind them, Gabriel had Jack pinned up against the back wall, grin predatory as he grabbed him by the back of the thighs and hiked him up. Jack released a dirty moan, wrapping his legs tight around Gabriel’s tapered waist as the man sealed their mouths together, tongues exploring hungrily. He loved being manhandled, and Gabriel had always indulged him, making it look easy as he held or shifted Jack’s substantial mass around like he weighed next to nothing.

Upon reaching the top floor, Jack started to untangle himself, but Gabriel tightened his grip and smirked, carrying the blonde to his door in an impressive display of strength that had Jack internally swooning.

For pitching such a fit against the idea initially, the blonde sure was into the idea of accepting Gabriel back into his life right now – even if it was only for the one night. He was clinging on to Gabriel like a damn octopus, or an anaconda, limbs wrapped firmly about his waist and neck as that hot mouth devoured his fucking soul. Gabriel pushed him up against the wall beside his door, trying in vain to pull back enough to get a word in edgewise. _Christo_ , had Jack always been this starved for physical attention?

“Mm, Ja– _mmf_ , _Jack_ ,” Gabriel finally managed to groan around that sinuous tongue, the blonde biting and pulling at his bottom lip instead – leaving him room enough to talk, if only just. “ _Dios, amor_. Where are your keys, Jackie? Can you even fit anything in those damn pants?”

Jack chuckled, licking a hot stripe up Gabriel’s neck. “Mmm, back pocket…”

Sure enough, when Gabriel squeezed those buns of absolute steel, he could feel the barest outline of something he supposed could be a key. Attempting to disentangle the blonde’s legs from their death grip around his middle, Gabriel huffed affectionately when Jack held on tighter.

“Jackie, babe, _mi luz_ , _mi tersoro_ …” he pleaded, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips forward in a powerful grind when said ‘babe’ bit down on his neck, _hard_ , teeth pinching almost frim enough to break skin. Certainly hard enough to leave a bruise. Cheeky fucker knew Gabriel was particularly fond of being gnawed on. “Damn it. Will you _behave_ for two goddamn seconds? I need to put you down so we can get inside and get to the good stuff.”

“Just fuck me right here,” Jack purred, promptly short-circuiting Gabriel’s brain.

“You wanna fuck right here? In your very open, very _public_ hallway?”

Jack’s eyes were dark, brimming with lust, a stark contrast to his blinding white grin. “Sure, why not? Give dear old widow Hathaway two doors down a show.”

“Give her a heart attack, more like,” Gabriel laughed, enjoying this more lecherous and loose side of farm boy Jack Morrison. “Besides, you know I’m no good at sharing, _cariño_. The only one laying eyes on your sexy, naked body tonight is _me_.” Grinning, he leaned forward to steal a toe-curling kiss from swollen lips, and, whilst Jack was sufficiently distracted, he untangled those mile-long legs and carefully set the protesting blonde on his feet. “Now, let’s get down to business…”

Instead of reaching into his back pocket like Jack thought he would, he felt those large hands bypass the snug waist of his ripped jeans and grab generous handfuls of his ass. “Gabe!” he barked, equal measures scandalised and excited.

“Oops, hands slipped…” Gabriel smirked, squeezing the glorious globes in his palms just to feel Jack squirm.

At first touch, Gabriel thought Jack was going commando, a sinful thought in and of itself, but then his fingers traced a lacy slip of material nestled snugly between those muscular cheeks, and Gabriel nearly buckled to his knees with the sheer force of the spike in his arousal.

“Are you wearing a fucking _thong_ , Jackie?”

“Couldn’t fit much else underneath these pants,” Jack replied with an unrepentant grin that was clearly meant to rile him up.

Of course, it worked like a charm.

“You saucy little slut,” Gabriel growled, kissing him fiercely before brandishing the key. “Get the fuck inside. _Right now_.”

Jack snatched the key from pliant fingers and quickly let them into the apartment, Gabriel crowding in close behind as he followed Jack into the entryway. From there, it didn’t take long to kick off their shoes and pick right back up where they had left off.

Jack fisted the lapels of Gabriel’s suit jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss, before sliding his hands underneath the expensive fabric and sliding it off those wide shoulders. Gabriel was all too willing to help out, shrugging his jacket off his arms and letting it pool in a forgotten heap at his feet. His matching waistcoat was next, Jack throwing it someplace over his shoulder while Gabriel worked on the buttons of Jack’s shirt. As soon as his clavicle was exposed, Gabriel was on him, sucking mottled bruises into his creamy pale skin. It pleased Gabriel more than it probably should have to see Jack’s skin so unblemished and flawless, obviously untouched by another for quite some time.

He would remedy that tonight. Use him up and brand that skin with _his_ marks. Let all those who might come after know that while they may covet Jack’s body, they will never possess him like Gabriel does, never own his heart and soul like Gabriel does.

Ever the courteous host (even while having his tits chewed on and ass pawed at) Jack choked out a breathless, “D’ya want a drink or anything? A nightcap?”

Gabriel swirled his tongue around a peaked nipple, giving the aroused little nub a sharp nip and drinking in the magnificent mewl the action elicited. “Only want you, Jackie.”

“Good answer,” Jack purred, pulling Gabriel’s head up from his chest for another kiss.

Consciousness blurring at the edges, Gabriel fell helplessly into Jack’s gravitational pull, his hands scrambling to ruck up the back of the blonde’s shirt so that he could rake his short nails over silky soft flesh. Jack shivered and grinned into the kiss, hands cupping Gabriel’s face and petting through his trim goatee as their tongues tangled in a familiar dance.

They fumbled their way past the open kitchen, Gabriel entertaining the idea of hoisting Jack up onto one of the counters and thoroughly contaminating the sterile environment, when all of a sudden there was an almighty _yowl_.

Heart leaping into his throat, Gabriel pulled away to see Jack’s colossal feline hissing ferociously at him from behind the breakfast bar, hair sticking up every which way and little piercing fangs bared in a vicious display. “Fucking hellbeast,” he muttered sourly, glaring right back at those slitted yellow eyes.

“Behave,” Jack scolded, the laughter in his blue eyes telling Gabriel the rebuke was aimed solely at him. “You did stand on his tail, Gabe.”

“Kinda hard to see where you’re going when you’ve got a tongue jammed down your throat,” Gabriel defended himself, heart still racing from the unexpected fright.

“Fair point,” Jack conceded, fingers hooking into Gabriel’s belt and tugging him flush against his body. “C’mon, I doubt he’s going to bother us the rest of the night after that.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes but was more than happy to oblige, sealing his mouth back to Jack’s as he guided them through memory toward the sitting area, stumbling a time or two due to Jack being unable to keep those shameless mitts to himself.

The luxury apartment was beautifully decorated, but thankfully still fairly sparse. ‘Minimalistic’ as Jack had once told him. Luckily, the blonde hadn’t seemed to have moved any furniture or adornments around since Gabriel had last been here too many moons ago, so he was still able to navigate his way confidently whilst his higher brain functions were otherwise occupied.

If he had bothered to stop and look around, he would have noticed the small gaps scattered here and there; space for a picture frame on the mantle above the fireplace, an empty hook on the wall where a painting used to hang, a notable gap in the vinyl collection that had yet to be filled… all physical reminders that another body used to inhabit this space, empty spots that used to be inhabited with knickknacks that Gabriel had once bought and placed there, yet to be filled or replaced with something new.

But with Jack’s lips busy trying to suck the very essence from the depths of his soul, Gabriel would not notice such details until much later on…

By the time they reached the couch, Jack was shirtless and his fly was undone, Gabriel fairing better with just his tie and the first couple of buttons on his shirt unfastened.

As he gently laid Jack down on the plush leather (a major juxtaposition to how roughly he had been handling him up until that point) he couldn’t help but think that the blonde made quite the pretty picture. His fair complexion was rosy with exertion and stimulation, his baby blues swallowed up with black from sheer arousal, his flaxen hair artfully dishevelled from Gabriel’s fingers and his wide chest heaving with adrenaline fuelled breaths. He looked _stunning_ , good enough to eat.

And Gabriel was determined to get his fill.

“As much as I fucking love these tight ass pants on you,” Gabriel began, giving Jack a heated once over, “let’s get ‘em off, _si_?”

“ _Si, mi amor_ ,” Jack purred in a piss poor attempt at a Spanish accent, butchering the pronunciation to an almost offensive degree. Still, it had the desired effect when Gabriel shivered from head to toe and bared his teeth in a snarl. There was something undeniably sexy about Jack speaking to him in his mother tongue, even if the gringo did struggle with the finer nuances of it.

“Don’t push me, farm boy,” he growled, his voice low and husky. He kneeled at the other end of the couch, the leather creaking under his weight as he ran his palms up Jack’s legs to his thighs, before grabbing onto the open waist. “Help a guy out, sweetheart.”

Jack eagerly obliged, lifting his hips and pointing his toes so that Gabriel could haul the sacrilegiously tight jeans off his long legs. Gabriel muttered and cursed under his breath when the stubborn denim first got caught around his knees, and then his ankles, crowing with delight when he finally peeled them off and threw them far, _far_ away.

Jack bit his lip as Gabriel’s dark eyes drank him in from the muss of his hair to the tips of his toes, his gaze both smouldering in intensity and reverent in passion – and Jack fucking preened under the attention, throwing his arms up above his head and arching his back in a lazy, sensual stretch, much like Tchaikovsky would do in a warm patch on a sunny day. Jack knew he looked good, took care of his body inside and out so that he was always in peak physical condition. He did it mainly for himself, his own sense of pride and self-worth, but he couldn’t deny that he did enjoy the way it seemed to ignite a voracious fire in Gabriel’s gut when he stripped him down.

“ _Mierda_ … You’re so fucking beautiful, Jack,” Gabriel said, his voice coloured with so much awe it made Jack blush. Those big hands trailed featherlight up over his arms and pecs, before trailing down over his ticklish stomach and sharply cut hips. His amber gaze was caught on the black lace thong, the fabric already damp and straining to contain Jack’s throbbing erection. Gabriel tenderly fingered the soft fabric, dipping under the slim bands over his hips and tugging teasingly. “Stunning,” he hummed out loud this time, before giving the blonde a fond pat on the flank. “Turn over, _bonito_. Show _Papi_ what we’re working with.”

Like Jack could refuse that sultry tone. Flipping himself over, he held himself up on his elbows and forced himself to keep his eyes forward as Gabriel groaned behind him.

“Fuck. Look at you,” Gabriel growled, running both palms over the glorious swell of Jack’s juicy peach. “Laid out like a fucking buffet for me.”

“Please, Gabe,” Jack pleaded, head hanging as his hands balled into fists. “Don’t just stare, _do something_!”

“Brat,” Gabriel admonished with a painful nip to the blonde’s rump, smirking when Jack yelped and shot a dark scowl over his shoulder. “Can’t a man admire his meal before diving on in?”

Jack huffed, clearly not impressed. “Not when said _meal_ is seconds away from eating itself!”

Gabriel frowned, puzzled. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t know! Just… get on with it already!” To accentuate his point, Jack wiggled his hips, that plump rear waving enticingly in front of Gabriel’s eyes.

“Still such a bossy bitch, Jackie,” Gabriel tsked, though he was smiling. “You’re lucky I love ‘em feisty.”

Without further preamble, Gabriel hauled Jack up onto his knees and pushed his chest down with a firm hand on the nape of his neck, forcing him to present like the bitch he proclaimed him to be. Jack tried to bite back a carnal moan, the display of raw dominance stoking the burning embers of his lust into a roaring fire, but the sound punched out of him regardless when Gabriel laved the flat of that wicked tongue from his taint to the top of his crack, the heat oh so divine even through the thin material of the thong.

“ _Bon appétit_ ,” Jack quipped with a sassy wink tossed over his shoulder, laughing when Gabriel glared and spanked a cheek for his efforts.

“This is what I get for not giving you something to occupy that insolent mouth.”

Jack didn’t miss a beat. “I thought you missed my insolent mouth?”

“What I miss,” Gabriel replied, giving the blonde a playful wedgie before peeling the slip of fabric halfway down those muscular thighs, “is fucking you so hard you forget how to use it.”

Jack thought to snark back, maybe something along the lines of ‘put your money where your mouth is’, and he’d be damned if there wasn’t a joke in there somewhere – but he soon found all vocabulary escaping his immediate grasp when Gabriel suddenly put his mouth to work.

The first lick against his exposed hole had Jack biting down on his tongue. It had been much too long since anything but his own fingers and selection of silicone toys had touched him, and, as wound up as he was, he didn’t want the fun to end before it even got started. Gabriel used the flat of his tongue to lave over the fluttering pucker, hands kneading his cheeks as he pulled them apart for better access, before stiffening the wet muscle and breaching past his tight rim. Jack moaned into the crook of his elbow, stars bursting behind his closed eyelids as that supple tongue wriggled deeper inside of him, causing his limbs to shudder with a delightful stirring of pleasure that continued to build up at the base of his spine.

Gabriel was an enthusiastic lover, always had been. He was the kind of man that got deep satisfaction from satisfying his partner, could suck a dick and eat a guy out for hours without once touching himself or thinking of his own sexual needs. Jack had always admired that about him, and not just because it meant he got spoiled rotten between the sheets – or on the couch, as the case may be. It spoke of Gabriel’s integral character; a well-raised man and natural-born leader. Somebody to respect and aspire to someday become.

A harsh nip to his left buttock had Jack careening back into the moment, Gabriel obviously miffed that he didn’t have his full attention. “Come back to me, Jackie. Kinda rude to be zoning out on a man when he’s got his tongue shoved up your ass.”

“Sorry, you’re right, it’s just… my head is all over the place right now…”

“Mm. Alcohol and bad decisions will do that to a man.”

“You calling yourself a ‘bad decision’?”

“Never claimed to be a good one,” Gabriel grinned, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Sensing a shift in pace and mood, he pulled the thong back up into place, pressing a kiss to the dip in Jack’s back before sitting back on his heels. “Flip over, _mi sol_. Let me see that gorgeous face.”

With a bit of help, Jack managed to turn over onto his back, smiling up at Gabriel as he worshipped his body with his eyes. Making grabby hands at the towering man, Gabriel chuckled and fell willingly into his arms, Jack wrapping his tight about his neck and spreading his thighs, welcoming Gabriel between them. Cupping the blonde’s face, Gabriel initiated a bone-melting kiss, the deep, tender kind they used to share when they first got together. Jack sighed dreamily against his lips and hiked his legs up to bracket Gabriel’s hips as he started grinding down against him.

Fingers working impatiently, Jack hurried to unbutton the rest of Gabriel’s shirt, the finicky little discs really trying his usually quite stellar patience. And, to be fair, his focus was really quite divided at the minute, what with Gabriel’s tongue intent on tasting his tonsils. When the bastard chuckled against his mouth after he fumbled with the same button over and over, Jack glared and rather aggressively ripped the shirt open the rest of the way, the sound of small plastic discs skittering across the floor music to his ears.

Gabriel, unsurprisingly, was less impressed.

“Oy, _cabrón_!” he growled, his glower somewhat overshadowed by the burning desire shining in his eyes. “Shit’s expensive.”

“Yeah, because money is such an issue,” Jack said caustically, totally unrepentant as his hands roved hungrily over the bronze, slick slopes of Gabriel’s exposed torso. He was built like a brick shithouse; all bulging pectorals and thick traps, his abdominals rock hard and hips carved into a mouth-watering V. From chest to navel was covered in a thick mat of dark body hair that Jack fucking loved carding his fingers through, and his natural musk was heady and rich, so masculine, it made Jack’s head spin. Moaning unashamedly, Jack grabbed a heaping handful of Gabriel’s pecs and _squeezed_. “These are fucking amazing, Gabe. No one has tits like you.”

“Damn straight,” Gabriel grinned wolfishly, relishing in the praise. “Can still wank off that pretty cock between these bad boys.”

“Speaking of pretty cocks,” Jack winked and wet his lips, his hands trailing down over his washboard abs as he tugged teasingly at the waistband of Gabriel’s slacks. “Let’s unleash the beast.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Gabriel huffed, though he stifled a laugh, watching with dark eyes as Jack unfastened his belt and made quick work of his button and zipper. Hissing a breath through his teeth when Jack palmed at his hard cock through his briefs, he helped the blonde shove them down far enough to tuck under his balls, his engorged dick bobbing free and already dripping.

Jack moaned at the mere sight of it, and if that didn’t just stroke Gabriel’s ego nicely, his cock twitching like it both heard and appreciated the compliment.

“ _Hello_ , handsome,” Jack practically fucking cooed, and Gabriel didn’t know whether to be flattered that Jack was talking to his dick like it was a beloved pet, or insulted. Maybe both. “I cannot wait to get my mouth on you…”

“Maye later,” Gabriel refuted, snapping Jack out of his daze as he crudely took himself in hand and gave a lazy stroke. “You two can get reacquainted _after_ I fuck you senseless.”

Jack had to stop himself from whining like a petulant child, he didn’t want to wait! Not when it was right there in front of him, taunting him, like a delicious treat he wasn’t allowed to have until after he finished his dinner. He was almost tempted to ignore Gabriel’s warning and just dive on it anyway – what was he going to do? _Not_ have his dick sucked? But then Gabriel’s words finally registered through the thick fog of his maddening lust. _Maybe later?_ What was that supposed to mean? Was Gabriel going to spend the night, and was simply talking about later that evening? Or did he think that this was going to be a recurring venture between them? That after this night they were going to, what? Become fuck buddies? Or try and work things out?

Jack closed his eyes and pushed all coherent thought out of his head. That was something he would unpack and decipher some other time. Right now there was only _this_ , only _them_ , and Jack was going to enjoy every goddamn moment of it.

Jack squirmed under Gabriel’s molten scrutiny, like a worm caught helpless on the end of a hook, his skin breaking out in a thrill of gooseflesh even as his core ran hot. When he attempted to wriggle out of his thong, Gabriel quickly slapped his hand away with a rumbling growl, those rich brown eyes darkening even further, though Jack would have thought it impossible.

“Ah, ah, beautiful,” Gabriel scolded, pinning Jack’s wrists up over his head. “I’m gonna fuck you with your pretty little thong _on_.” Jack tucked his lip between his teeth and his eyes fluttered shut, letting Gabriel know that he was more than okay with the suggestion. “Gonna just pull it to the side and shove myself in, feel it rub up against my dick every time I pull out.”

“I’m hearing a lot of talk, old man,” Jack grinned, testing the strength of Gabriel’s hold and finding himself to be pleasantly trapped. “How’s about you start and make good on them words?”

“‘ _Old man_ ’,” Gabriel scoffed, affronted, though he was smiling fondly all the same. “I’ll show you ‘old’. Hold on tight, Jackie – _Papi’s_ gonna make you wear your knees as earmuffs.”

*

After thoroughly wrecking Jack on the couch (and leaving behind a sticky mess on the upholstery), the pair migrated to the ensuite upstairs to shower – and perhaps indulge in a bit of heavy petting. By the time they tumbled onto Jack’s plush king size bed, they were both hard and panting and ready to go again.

It was then that Jack finally got his wish, pushing Gabriel down against the feathery pillows before crawling between those perfectly thick thighs and swallowing down that gorgeous cock to the root. Gabriel was reduced to a writhing mess within mere moments of getting sucked into that warm, wet heat – Jack had always had a wicked mouth, no matter what task he set it to. He knew exactly what Gabriel liked; nice and sloppy with just a hint of teeth to make it dangerous, one hand working his heavy sack with gentle tugs and the other teasing his hole… Jack was a fucking pro.

Threading his fingers through his sunshine blonde hair, Gabriel pulled Jack off his dick with a lewd pop, the man practically whimpering as he was dragged away from his treat.

_Little minx._

“As much as I would like to paint the back of your throat, _tesoro_ , I’ve only got one more load in me before I pass out, and I would much rather you bend me over and rail me into the headboard before I shoot it…”

“Fuck,” Jack groaned, bullying his way between Gabriel’s enthusiastically parted thighs and kissing him thoroughly. “Yeah, _yeah_. Let’s do that, fuck, _please_.”

Gabriel chuckled, nipping at those ruddy, swollen lips. “Got lube?”

Jack pulled back to give him a look that just screamed ‘ _duh_ ’, before reaching over and rooting through his beside drawer and triumphantly brandishing a half empty bottle of unscented water-based lube. “I am a boy scout, after all.”

Gabriel’s dour look spoke volumes, snatching the bottle out of Jack’s lax grip and kissing that stupid grin off of the blonde’s smiling lips. Uncapping the tube, he poured a generous dollop onto his hand and warmed it up between his fingers (because he was a fucking gentleman, _thankyouverymuch_ ) before reaching down between their bodies and wrapping his palm around Jack’s engorged length. Jack moaned into Gabriel’s mouth, hips twitching helplessly into his loose fist. He then trailed his hand lower, fingers slipping between his cheeks to rub provocatively over his furled hole. Jack could only watch helplessly as Gabriel tossed his head back and cursed, eyes clenched shut tight and toes curling as he slowly worked himself open on his own fingers. His vulgar moaning and groaning was setting Jack’s nerves on edge, but when he tried to become an active participant in the fun, Gabriel bared his teeth and cruelly smacked his hand away.

“C’mon. Let me help, Gabe…” _Sweet baby Jesus, **please** let me help…_

“I got this,” Gabriel replied, his voice straining against the burning stretch. “I want your dick sometime today, _cabrón_. If I let you take over, we’ll be here all damn night. You always did love riling me up too much, you sicko.”

Jack couldn’t really argue with that, but having to lay there and watch and not being allowed to touch was like a brand new form of torture. It didn’t help that Gabriel looked so decadent as he fingered himself, teeth grit together and brow furrowed in concentration, back arching up into Jack’s every time he brushed up against that spongy little pleasure centre up inside his body. For want of something to do, Jack lavished Gabriel’s jaw and throat with sucking bites, whispering words of pure filth and encouragement to spur him on.

Fortunately, Gabriel was apparently feeling merciful today, and didn’t leave Jack hanging on that precarious thread for too long.

When he felt he was slicked up and just loose enough that taking Jack wasn’t going to tear him open, Gabriel grabbed a handful of Jack’s ass with one hand and used the other to guide the blonde to his eagerly awaiting hole – only for Jack to shake his head and pull away.

“No, no,” he huffed, his words growled out on a heated breath as his body thrummed with excitement. “Want you on your knees, Gabi. Want you to claw at the headboard as you howl out my name. _Want you to see stars, baby_.”

“ _Dios mio_. Whatever you want, Jackie.”

“Damn straight, Reyes. Now _move_.” Jack punctuated his order with a firm spank to Gabriel’s luscious ass, helping the man to flip over onto his knees, Jack’s hands petting over Gabriel’s hips and rear whilst Gabriel curled his over the lip of the headboard.

Jack took a moment to really drink the man in. His rich brown skin, glistening now with a fine sheen of shimmering sweat, the muscular curves and valleys of his back and shoulders and ass, the almost imperceptible tremble of those burly arms as arousal and adrenaline spiked through his veins.

There was absolutely no denying it; Gabriel Reyes was _drop dead fucking gorgeous_. And right now, at least for tonight – he was all Jack’s.

“Take a damn picture, Morrison – it’ll last longer.”

“Don’t temp me,” Jack replied, draping himself over Gabriel’s sweaty back to lick at the nape of his neck. “You look fucking phenomenal right now, Gabe. There’s something unbelievably sext about seeing you on your knees, ass up in the air, practically begging for a good dicking…”

Gabriel scoffed, though it was a lot more breathy than he would have liked given that Jack’s sinful tongue was trailing down his spine. “Who’s begging?”

Jack pressed a smirk into Gabriel’s skin, before biting hard at the meat of his rump and provoking a heated hiss from the man. “No-one— yet,” he purred, lining himself up and ramming himself into Gabriel’s pliant body in one long thrust.

Both men groaned in pure bliss, Jack at the snug heat sucking him in and clenching tight all around his already too sensitive dick, and Gabriel at that indescribable feeling of being satisfyingly stuffed full to capacity. It wasn’t often that Gabriel bottomed, he generally enjoyed being in control, found pleasure in being dominant over others – but like most everything else in their lives, Jack knew how to work Gabriel’s body like a well-tuned guitar. A strum of his fingers here, a pluck on Gabriel’s heartstrings there, and Jack could make sweet, sweet music with his body. To Gabriel, having Jack on top didn’t so much feel like he was conceding control, but rather that he was gaining another facet of pleasure that he would otherwise be denied. Jack didn’t make him feel weak or submissive, he made him feel powerful, like he was taking his pleasure from Jack’s body instead of receiving it.

It was heady in it’s intensity.

“You ready for me, babe?” Jack asked, pressing a string of pretty bruises into Gabriel’s hips with his fingertips and grinding sensually against his rear.

“You tell me,” Gabriel snarked over his shoulder, bearing down against the pressure and moaning wantonly.

“Been a while, huh?” Jack commented, stroking down his heaving flanks as those hot, tight walls quivered around him. “I’m not going to take it easy on you.”

Gabriel grinned, showing off a sliver of pearly white teeth. “ _Don’t you dare_.”

Shuffling further forward on his knees, so that he was as flush up against Gabriel’s ass as possible, he canted his hips back at the same time he pushed Gabriel’s forward, before driving forward hard and simultaneously yanking Gabriel back onto his turgid cock. Gabriel hissed a breath between clenched teeth, biting down on a shameless moan – but that wasn’t enough for Jack. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Gabriel was _howling_ in ecstasy.

Keeping up the punishing pace, the sound of their bodies slapping together with such force a welcome melody to Jack’s ears, he leaned forward over Gabriel’s arched back, mouth sucking harsh love bites into the dark skin of his shoulder blades while his hands snaked around his front, one hand stroking his drooling dick and the other flicking a pebbled nipple.

Gabriel gasped, his heart racing as it tried tirelessly to supply blood to the areas currently being assaulted. It was all too much and convolutedly not enough. He wanted to twist away from those wicked fingers that were drawing so much pleasure from him, Jack wringing his throbbing cock like he was milking a fucking cow, the goddamn _farm boy_ hard at work, while that amazing dick drove hard and fast into his very core, nailing his prostate with a vicious accuracy that made tiny constellations burst behind his closed eyelids. And don’t get him started on that sinful tongue laving nonsensical patterns into the nape of his neck.

“Jesus. Fuck. _Gabe_.” Jack babbled, lust-drunk, grunting and groaning behind him. His breath was hot and humid against his skin, the blonde putting forth his maximum effort into driving Gabriel crazy on the end of his dick. “Missed this. Missed your musky scent and smooth skin. Missed your gruff voice and silky curls.” Sinking long fingers into said curls, Jack gave a rough pull, Gabriel snarling as his head snapped back and his throat was exposed to Jack’s hungry mouth. “Missed your perfect fucking face. Those gorgeous eyes that I swear can see right through to my soul. Those unjustly full lips that I could watch talking all day…” He smirked, thumbing at Gabriel’s bottom lip as the man panted and moaned. “Though I much prefer the sight of them stretched out around my cock…”

Gabriel growled, nipping sharply at Jack’s prodding thumb before sucking it into his mouth, tongue lapping and swirling over the pad in a crass imitation of his oral talents. Jack chewed on his own lip, blue eyes darkening to navy as he sat back on his haunches, pulling Gabriel’s hips down with him so that the man’s wonderfully thick thighs were spread obscenely over his own. The new position allowed Gabriel to sink down impossibly further on Jack’s cock, the head nestling up tight against his prostate with every roll of the blonde’s hips and flooding Gabriel’s senses with white noise. Liquid heat coursed through his veins as he threw his arms back around Jack’s head, his back curving into a tempting arch that Jack worshipped with grasping hands and sharp teeth.

Jack nosed up the column of his throat to just behind his ear, licking and kissing at the sensitive skin there. “I’ve really missed you, Gabi. You have no idea how much I fucking miss you.”

It was like Jack was speaking to him from underwater, Gabriel’s senses sluggish and muzzy under the onslaught of _wantneedfuck **please**_. “Don’t be a sap, Jackie,” he chided, voice not as stern as he would have liked it to be. Jack was a man of many talents, and pounding ass was definitely one of them. He should put it on his CV. “You can wax poetic to your heart’s content just as soon as you’re done fucking my brains into a mushy pulp.”

“You got it,” Jack chuckled, taking a firm hold of his hips so he could better bounce Gabriel on his lap. “Hey – don’t suppose you got a cowboy hat hidden away someplace?”

Gabriel took a grim satisfaction from clenching down so hard on Jack’s dick that he cursed and lost his rhythm for a beat. “Don’t push your luck, Morrison.”

Jack didn’t reply, but Gabriel could feel that wolfish grin pressed into the side of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter bites the dust! Only one or two left in this little piece before we're done!
> 
> Any mistakes or glaring errors, or even some criticism, drop in and let me know!
> 
> Thanks for stopping by, until next time - stay safe guys <3
> 
> Translations:
> 
> mi luz - my light  
> mi tesoro - my treasure  
> cariño - honey  
> mi amor - my love  
> mi sol - my sunshine  
> mierda - shit  
> bonito - beautiful  
> papi - daddy  
> cabrón - asshole, dick  
> dio mio - my god


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe and Jack try their hand at 'adulting' and talk about their feelings...

**Chapter 4**

_My biggest enemy is me_   
_Ever since day one_   
_Pop a 911_   
_Then pop another one_

The next morning came early for Gabriel. Having been decidedly… distracted last night, neither he nor Jack had thought to pull the heavy curtains before finally succumbing to a blissed out coma, so now the early morning light was streaming in through the tilted blinds in dazzling strips of balmy gold. One beam cut straight across Gabriel’s eyes, his brow furrowing and nose scrunching as the light penetrated through the fuzzy haze of his subconscious and roused him back to reality. Groaning, he threw an arm over his eyes to block out the obnoxious sunlight, but it was too late, he knew he wouldn’t fall asleep now that he had been disturbed.

Speaking of disturbing…

Rolling over onto his side, he expected to be greeted with flaxen blonde hair and pale delectable skin, only to frown when instead he was met with a massive hide of tabby grey fur and yellow slitted eyes. Slotted between the two men like a living barrier, the Maine Coon eyed Gabriel shrewdly, ears pricked forward and tail thumping a lazy rhythm against the duvet. Trying to discreetly shoo the beast away, Tchaikovsky took blatant offence, ears flattening back against his skull and lips curling away from pointed fangs in a threatening hiss. Refusing to be bullied, Gabriel narrowed his eyes and hissed right back, momentarily startling the big cat before it redoubled it’s efforts to appear large and intimidating.

Shifting could be heard from behind the damnable furball, putting their heated standoff on ice.

“Tchai, be nice to Gabe, he’s a guest,” came the sleep rough voice of Jack, his tone distinctly unimpressed at having been woken up before he was ready. “And Gabe, don’t hiss at the cat.” Jack groaned. “Jesus, there’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever have to say. Besides, you are technically in his spot.”

“Whatever. It’s _my_ spot right now. He can fight me.”

“You’re something else,” Jack sighed, and Gabriel could see enough of his arms to know that he was rubbing wearily at his face. “Out, Tchai. I’ll get up and feed you in a minute. Let daddy wake up first.”

If cats could roll their eyes, Gabriel was sure that this one would be doing it right now as it took it’s sweet time to roll that monstrous body out in a languorous stretch before turning it’s nose up and leaping off the bed, tail swishing haughtily as it left the room.

“Hellbeast,” Gabriel huffed, making sure the cat was gone before spooning up nice and tight against Jack’s back. “ _Buenos días, mi sol_ ,” he purred, kissing up and down the length of Jack’s shoulder. “C’mere, _hermosa_. Let me wake up ‘ _daddy_ ’…”

“You’re hopeless,” Jack tried for gruff, but there was laughter in his tone as Gabriel’s devious fingers tickled over his hip and across the sensitive skin just above his pubic hair, the two men still as naked as they day they were born beneath the sheets. “Quit it, you tragic horndog, I need to get up and make a start on the day! I’ve got a client meeting at twelve sharp – not to mention my bladder feels like it’s about to explode.”

“You know, there’s a famous saying about Jacks being all work and no play,” Gabriel sassed, nipping at the blonde’s pulse and feeling it jump under his lips. “C’mon, babe, let me play with ya a bit… I’ll be quick, just prop your leg up here and let me slide in…”

“How romantic.” Turning in Gabriel’s arms so that they were face-to-face, Jack cupped his bearded jaw, fingers petting through the wiry but strangely soft hair as he hiked his thigh over Gabriel’s hip and gave him a sweet Eskimo kiss.

Gabriel rumbled happily at the affectionate attention, his palm sliding up Jack’s thigh to grab at his ass and reel him in tight. Gabriel could honestly just sit and watch the light play about Jack’s face all damn day. The way it lit up his sunshiny hair, and made his cornflower blue eyes sparkle like the surface of calm seas.

Christ, when did he become a poet?

It was so easy between them – they were in familiar territory, so there was no awkward tension in the air, no sense of unease from feeling like you had overstayed your welcome, or stilted conversations where you find out that you actually have nothing in common, or the weighted decision of wondering if you should split before breakfast.

There was only contentment and satisfaction between them.

Feeling bold and admittedly frisky, Gabriel went in for a kiss, eager to get the show on the road – when he suddenly found himself with a faceful of Jack’s hand.

“Keep it in your pants, Romeo,” Jack chided with a cheeky grin as he extricated himself from Gabriel’s hold and rolled away to sit up. “And keep your lips away from me until you brush your teeth. Your morning breath is horrendous.”

“I’m not wearing pants,” Gabriel groused, though he could hardly stay mad when Jack got out of bed, not a shred of shame to be found over the state of his undress as he rifled through his drawers to find clean underwear. Gabriel was unrepentant with his staring. Damn but he could take a heaping _bite_ out of that booty. “Didn’t wanna kiss you anyway. And for the record, your breath isn’t exactly endearing either, but I was willing to endure it for the greater good.”

“And by ‘greater good’ you mean getting your dick wet,” Jack replied with a saucy quirk of the brow, hands fisted casually on his hips like he wasn’t totally starkers and sporting an impressive half chub. “Speaking of ‘wet’, I’m gonna grab a shower.” He quickly snapped his fingers and pointed when Gabriel nearly shot off the mattress. “You, _stay_.”

“I’m not a damn dog,” Gabriel growled, flopping back down onto the ridiculously luxurious pillows.

“The bite marks on my neck and ass say otherwise,” Jack smirked, hips sashaying provocatively on fucking purpose as he flashed said marks to Gabriel’s dark gaze before disappearing behind the door to the ensuite.

“Tease!” Gabriel barked at the closed door ( _still not a dog_ ), Jack’s mirthful laughter obvious even over the spray of the shower on the tiles.

Grinning almost giddily, clearly still high on endorphins from last night and their easy domestic banter, Gabriel rolled onto his back and shimmed back under the inviting warmth of the duvet, content to wait until he got his turn at the shower. Why they couldn’t just shower together and conserve water was beyond him. Jack was being a prude on purpose, well aware that Gabriel was especially easy to provoke, the little flirt.

Settling back into a peaceful doze, warm and relaxed and listening to the sound of Jack in the shower, it really didn’t take long for Gabriel’s thoughts to plummet straight down into the gutter. Imagining the blonde all wet and slippery, how his silky skin feels when covered in soapy suds and the way his loud ass groans echo off of the tiled walls, it was enough to take him from a semi to full mast in record speed.

Weighing up the pros and cons (like there were any!) Gabriel quickly took himself in hand and gave a lazy stroke, chewing on his bottom lip as he recalled the image of Jack in the shower last night, of Jack folded in half on the couch, of his bare ass in the air before that and in those criminally tight jeans before that…

Lip curling, he used his other hand to pinch one of his nipples, giving a harsh twist that toed the line between pain and pleasure, before trailing his fingers down his toned stomach and between his legs, grabbing his balls and rolling them in his palm. Blood rushing hot and fast through his veins, he planted his feet on the mattress for better leverage and fucked up into his fist, licking his lips as a lazy sort of lust pooled low in his gut.

Licking his palm to ease the friction, Gabriel pumped himself in earnest, letting his imagination run rampant with a rolodex of flashing images – all staring Jack in some depraved position or another. The bed still smelled musky and ripe with the scent of sex, of their comingled bodies and fluids, and Gabriel huffed the heady cocktail like an addict jonesing for a hit of their favourite drug. Twisting his wrist and tugging on his heavy sack, he caught his bottom lip between his teeth and groaned, abdominals contracting as pleasure zapped down his spine like a hot whip of lightening.

“Really, Gabe?”

Jack sounded exasperated, but when Gabriel turned his head toward the direction of the bathroom, Jack standing in the doorway covered in beads of fresh water and a towel wrapped dangerously low on his hips, his sultry expression told Gabriel that he was actually rather enjoying the show.

Following a droplet of water as it ran a shimmering course from Jack’s throat down over his clavicle, between those perky pecs and down washboard abs before getting absorbed into the thatch of golden pubic hair visible just above the border of the fluffy blue towel, Gabriel felt the molten pit of pleasure in his core spread like wildfire and then suddenly combust, a blissful orgasm washing over his trembling limbs like a warm, hazy pulse.

“Unbelievable,” Jack snorted, shaking his head like a disappointed dad.

Gabriel didn’t even bother trying to curb the goofy grin that came only from a great, spine-tingling orgasm. “Don’t even, boy scout. You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t rub one out just now?”

Jack’s pronounced silence and reddened cheeks (that was clearly not just a flush from the warmth of the shower) was answer enough for Gabriel, who chuckled darkly as the blonde pointedly ignored him and went about getting dressed into comfortable looking loungewear. In fact, now that the fog of his orgasm was fading and Gabriel looked a little closer, that shirt looked suspiciously like–

Gabriel snorted loud and obnoxiously enough to capture Jack’s attention, the blonde raising a brow in question. “Something you wanna share with the class?”

“I was wondering what happened to my favourite band shirt. Thought I had lost it years ago.”

Jack sniffed loftily, doing a mighty fine job of pretending that the heat prickling the back of his neck was just residual heat from the shower. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. Since when do you listen to old rock from the 21st century?”

“Since forever, if you must know.”

“Right. And that’s why your cat is named after a classical music composer.”

“Do you want breakfast or not? Get up and dressed, there’ll be enough hot water if you want to shower.” Turning on his heel (in his stolen shirt) Jack made his way over to the satirs, where Tchaikovsky was waiting impatiently at the bottom for food. “Oh, and you can change the sheets, lothario.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, though the corners of his mouth ticked up in an endearing grin. Falling back into old routines, indeed.

* * *

“So, what happened to your ‘super important’ client meeting?” Gabriel asked fifteen minutes later as he strolled barefoot down the stairs, hair still damp and skin smelling sweetly of pomegranates. He had ‘borrowed’ a pair of Jack’s boxers and threw on his now rumpled suit pants from last night, forgoing a shirt for the time being as his body was still running hot from the scalding shower. (And if it happened to draw Jack’s attention in a positive manner, then that was just a bonus.)

“First of all,” Jack began, tearing his gaze away from Gabriel’s obscenely swollen pectorals as he tended to the scrambled eggs he was preparing for breakfast, “don’t put inverted commas around your words like you think my time is anything less than extremely valuable.” Gabriel snorted, but wisely chose not to comment as he took a seat at the breakfast bar in the open kitchen. It had already been laid out with pots of yoghurt and bowls of fruit, though Gabriel could smell that eggs and bacon weren’t long off. Stomach grumbling, he helped himself to a cube of melon while he waited. “Secondly,” Jack continued, turning the burners off and reaching for plates set out nearby, “I suddenly find my schedule suspiciously free this afternoon..”

Scrolling through his emails and work calendar, Gabriel scoffed. “Ditto. Funny that, huh?”

“Fishy, more like,” Jack replied, setting down two plates with bacon, eggs and toast. Before he took a seat himself, he fetched two steaming mugs of coffee – cream and sugar for Jack, black as night for Gabriel.

Nodding his thanks, Gabriel glanced over at where Tchaikovsky was chowing down on his own canned breakfast. “Your cat still hates me.”

“Well, you did stand on his tail,” Jack shrugged, not looking up as he unfolded a fresh newspaper. “Three times now, if I’m remembering correctly.”

Gabriel felt absurdly prickly over the fact that Jack appeared to be taking sides. In his cat’s favour, no less.

“Well maybe he shouldn’t be skulking around like a little ninja all the damn time.”

“Gabe,” this time Jack did look up, levelling him with a wilting stare, “he’s the size of a small dog, he’s kind of hard to miss…”

“I plead the Fifth.”

Snapping the paper open, Jack donned a pair of reading glasses. Which, adorable. “Of course you do.”

“I’m more of a dog person, anyway.”

“Of course you are,” Jack replied distractedly.

Gabriel glared across the table. “Are you humouring me right now, Morrison?”

“Of course I am.”

Gabriel growled but let it go, and for a long while the two ate in a comfortable hush; Jack sitting there in those too cute glasses (that made Gabriel want to bend him over the bar wearing _nothing but_ the thin black frames) as he skimmed through the morning paper, while Gabriel contented himself trolling the internet on his phone, the only sounds breaking the quiet of the morning the soft rustling of paper and the odd snort from Gabriel when he found something amusing.

Finished with his food, Gabriel pushed his plate aside and took up his coffee, sighing as the warmth seeped into his fingers. Taking a tentative sip, he hummed in pure bliss. Jack always had the best blends.

“Mm,” he moaned, grinning coquettishly when those baby blues peered at him from over the top of his glasses. “A hot cup’a joe and a hot piece of ass. I could get used to this every morning.”

Jack paused, his own mug halfway raised to his lips as he stared at the man sat across from him. “‘Every morning’?” he asked tentatively, his uncertain tone making Gabriel realise his mistake too late. “You, uh… you planning on making this a regular thing?”

Gabriel cleared his throat, finding himself disarmed and on the backfoot. “Well, I mean… That is, what I _meant_ to say was…” Floundering, he searched for something – _anything_ – to say, but his brain chose that precise moment to completely malfunction, and he could only shrug helplessly. “…I don’t know what I meant.”

There was a prominent silence then, that seemed to stretch on for an age, both men studiously looking anywhere but directly at each other. The tension seemed to mount between them, like a physical presence in the otherwise calm of the room, getting heavier and more oppressive the longer neither of them spoke.

It was Jack who broke first with a weighted sigh.

“Clearly we should talk,” he said, mug clasped in both hands in front of him though his fingers now felt numb to the warmth.

“Yeah…”

Jack frowned. “What’s with that tone? You look like I just kicked your puppy.”

“It’s just…” Gabriel wasn’t sure how vulnerable he was willing to be right now, especially after their amazing night together. But then again, sometimes certain things, _certain people_ , were worth the risk. “The last time I heard those words it didn’t exactly work out well for me.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Jack conceded, staring down into his coffee. “But obviously you have some thoughts on where we go from here, and I think it’s important we hash that out, clear the air – make sure we’re both reading from the same page.”

Gabriel gave a determined nod, sitting up straight and squaring his shoulders, much like he would if he was about to make a case for a defendant in the courtroom. “Sounds good.”

And then, _nothing_ – both of them suddenly unsure of what to say. Or even where to start.

Until--

“I wanna get back together,” Gabriel blurted at the exact same time Jack said, “I think this is a bad idea.”

They both paused, blinking across the bar at each other.

“You want to give us another shot?” Jack asked just as Gabriel inquired, “Why do you think that?”

“Jesus,” Jack chuckled, Gabriel shaking his head with a muttered, “ _Dios_ …”

When it looked like they were both about to talk over the top of each other once more, Jack held up his hand, effectively silencing Gabriel mid syllable. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” he smiled genially, gesturing at him with a wave of the hand. “You go first. I’ll hear your opening statement out before… cross-examining.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, willing to sit through this mock court hearing in good humour. “Thank you, your honour,” he grinned, fixing an imaginary tie as he rose from his seat, sweeping an arm out like he was addressing an invisible jury. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, this is a case about taking chances. About deciding the difference between what is right and what is wrong.” Rounding the bar, he clamped his hands down on Jack’s shoulders, kneading the muscle as he leaned down to breathe hotly in his ear, “It's about love, and lust…”

“And betrayal?” Jack asked, effectively dousing Gabriel’s honeyed words in a shock of cold reality.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes in a glare and nipped the shell of his ear. “Objection; conjecture.”

“Overruled.” Jack swatted him away, a fond smile playing about his lips though the look in his eyes was grave. “Be serious, Gabe. This is important.”

Sighing, Gabriel sat back down, folding his arms on the tabletop. “I know, and I was being serious when I said that I want to give us another shot.” When it looked like Jack was going to argue, Gabriel stopped him with a stern glower. “You said you would hear me out, so let me talk. You had fun last night, right?”

“Well, obviously, yes. But there’s a big difference between great sex and a functioning relationship, Gabe.”

Glossing over the ‘great sex’ part, because _thankyouverymuch_ , Gabriel steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “That’s true. But you can’t deny we have amazing chemistry. Sure, we had our fair share of bumps in the road, but then what couple doesn’t?”

“An affair is hardly a ‘bump in the road’,” Jack scowled, leaning back and crossing his arms defensively.

“An _affair_?” Gabriel scoffed incredulously, that ‘mightier than thou’ attitude immediately putting his back up. “You kicked me out of your apartment and out of your life before I’d even signed on the dotted line with Talon. By definition, I couldn’t have an affair because we weren’t in a relationship anymore – if we were ever in one to begin with.”

“Not this again,” Jack bemoaned, scrubbing a hand down his face, eyes suddenly looking so very, very tired. “I feel like we’re constantly going in circles with this…”

“I don’t know what it is you want from me, Jack,” Gabriel shrugged, feeling as frustrated as Jack now looked. “I don’t know what you want me to say?”

Jack’s brilliant blue gaze snapped to Gabriel then, a fire suddenly ignited in their depths. “What I _want_ ,” he began, tone steely, “is for you to _talk to me_ , Gabe – _really_ talk. Like we used to when we were just best buds down at the bar after work. Back before we got wasted that one night and fucked in the backseat of your camero and complicated _everything_ between us. I want us to think with our upstairs brains for once, and figure out what went wrong.” Features softening, he slumped his shoulders and sat forward, eyes beseeching Gabriel to help him. “I want you to tell me _why._ ”

Gabriel stared right back, a swelling sense of conviction making him bold. “The truth?”

Jack gave a firm nod, unwavering. “Nothing but.”

“Okay.” Bracing himself for what was sure to be a very heavy conversation, Gabriel sat forward and interlocked his fingers, by all accounts looking like he was about to confront a client with bad news. “Here it is, Morrison - you piss me off.” And would you look at that, it was bad news!

Jack blinked, unsure of what he was expecting exactly, but knowing that it definitely wasn’t that.

“Excuse me?”

“When I worked for Overwatch, it felt like I was living in your shadow. I felt like I was constantly overlooked and undermined, like my talent was being stifled, brushed aside… And, to be perfectly honest, it was really starting to piss me off.”

“The job was? Or I was?”

“Both, I guess. Though mostly it was you, with your infuriating kiss-ass attitude and stupid photogenic face. Always so damn perfect, aren’t you, Jack?”

“You of all people should know how untrue that is,” Jack frowned, taken aback by Gabriel’s apparent animosity toward him. “I had absolutely no idea you felt that way about me. I don’t even know what to say to that…”

“It’s not like I hate you, Jackie. Far fucking from it,” Gabriel reassured. “It’s just… Talon was the first thing in a long time that I did solely for _me_. You can’t deny that you were Overwatch’s golden boy, even from the very start. From the day you walked in that place Ana preferred you, everybody knew it. It was _your_ name in all the papers, _your_ face in front of all the cameras – and I can’t even be mad at you because you’re fucking amazing at what you do. You deserved every single accolade and ounce of praise you ever got! But that left me in a pretty long fucking shadow, Jack, and I was feeling forgotten, oppressed. So, when Talon reached out to me, it felt like I was finally being recognised, that I was finally in the spotlight.”

“I’m sorry, Gabe,” Jack said after a moment to digest everything he had heard, forehead creased with remorse. “I never realised how much my own success was crippling yours, never stopped to consider how you might have been feeling. I guess I was kinda blind to everything but me, huh?”

“That’s definitely one way to put it.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? Maybe if you had just spoken to me, or Ana, then we could have helped you out, gotten you more cases with higher profile clients, or more media coverage at trials…”

“Oh, great, turn me into a charity case. That would be _real_ swell for my self-esteem.”

“Okay, I get your point. But still, I’d rather you had just talked to me, then maybe things could have been different. Maybe you could have stayed at Overwatch and been–”

“That’s just it, though. Overwatch _was_ the problem. I wasn’t happy there, Jack. The only reason I stuck it out as long as I did was because of you. I mean, Christ, we barely saw each other as it was and we worked in the same damn building! I was afraid that if I left Overwatch, I would _never_ get to see you anymore.”

“I get that,” Jack replied, looking contrite but still so upset. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner, that I was so self-involved I couldn’t see how unhappy you were. But when you left, it didn’t feel like you were choosing Talon over Overwatch – it felt like you were choosing _her_ over _me_. It broke me, Gabe…”

“No,” Gabriel said, tone so chock full of conviction it made Jack start, “it was never like that, Jackie. _Never_.”

“You just, left…” Jack scowled, hurt thick in his voice, like Gabriel needed reminding how bad he messed up. “There was no conversation or warning, I just came in one morning to find out from Ana – not even _you_ – that you had handed in your notice and were gone.”

Gabriel sighed, gaze dropping to his hands. “I guess I could have handled the situation a little better…”

“Better than a text saying ‘ _sorry, Amélie offered more_ ’?” Jack scoffed, his disdain particularly scathing.

Gabriel cringed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “Shit. That does sound pretty bad…”

Jack gave him a _look_ that said it all. “Yeah, it really fucking does.”

“You have to admit that neither one of us were particularly good at communicating our feelings, especially by that stage,” Gabriel pointed out, and with good merit. Jack rolled his eyes, but didn’t refute the statement, which was as good as conceding. “And besides, I honestly did think that you would come with me. I see now how foolish that was on my part.”

“Maybe if we’d had an actual conversation beforehand, you would have known that that was never going to be a consideration.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel shrugged, unwilling to shoulder all the blame on his own. “But a whole bunch of ‘ _maybe_ ’s and ‘ _what if_ ’s aren’t gonna do jack for us now. Whatever way you slice it, we both fucked up.”

Gabriel was expecting an argument, for the blonde to put his hackles up and insist that no, actually, it is all your fault! But to his pleasant surprise, Jack gave a terse nod of agreement, fingers tapping agitatedly against the tabletop. “Yeah, we did. Big time.”

“Finally. Something we can agree on.”

Both men smiled wryly at each other, the air between them cleared and yet the road ahead still obscured with so much uncertainty. The silence was more comfortable at least, not as stifling, but it still prickled at Jack’s skin and set Gabriel’s teeth on edge. They were close to a solution, some sort of absolution, if you will, but they obviously still had a ways to go yet.

“I wasn’t going to go last night,” Gabriel spoke up at length, leaning forward on folded arms. “To the gala, I mean.”

That piqued Jack’s interest. “Oh?”

“Well, I knew you would be there,” he shrugged, trying for aloof. “There were cameras and reporters, _of course_ you were gonna be there.” Jack felt like he should dispute this preconceived notion of his apparent characteristics, but found it was hard to argue against fact. “I just couldn’t stomach the idea of you dressed up all prim and sexy and knowing that you would sooner spit on me than say hello.”

Again, Jack opened his mouth to argue this, and again he found himself coming up short. Truth is, if they had met under more informal circumstances, in just some hole-in-the-wall bar someplace, he might have actually done it. The look on Gabriel’s face right now told him he thought much the same.

Deciding not to insult Gabriel with false reassurances they both knew he didn’t mean, Jack tilted his head inquisitively. “What changed your mind?”

“Amélie.”

“Really?” Jack couldn’t help his surprise – nor his snarl. It was a gut reaction to _that_ name.

Gabriel chose to ignore the blatant hostility. “Yep. She said that she was sick and tired of my moping around, and that she would have to take disciplinary action if I didn’t stop terrorising the others around the office.”

“Disciplinary– What did you _do_?”

Gabriel clucked his tongue and looked away. “You throw _one_ bagel at _one_ intern…”

“Oh my god, Gabe!” Jack tried for scolding, but could barely restrain the highly amused grin from curling his lips. “Come on, that doesn’t sound so bad…”

Gabriel cut him a look, fighting back his own smile. “It was three weeks stale. Nearly gave the kid a black eye.”

“Pfffft!” Jack promptly burst out in boisterous laughter, causing Gabriel to chuckle soundly along with him. It really had been quite funny – after he had been made to apologise and promise not to wield anymore breakfast foods as weapons.

When they both settled down, Gabriel shook his head and smiled warmly at the blonde. Jack really should laugh more, it took years off of his face.

“Amélie figured that the only way you and I could patch things up between us was if we were actually in the same room together. Basically, she gave me an ultimatum; go to the gala and talk to you, or she would chop my balls off to hang as a charm on her couture purse seeing as I wasn’t going to use them.” Jack winced, discreetly adjusting himself at the thought. Gabriel could sympathise. “Only she said it all in French, so it sounded a lot more intimidating.”

“I just can’t believe that out of everyone, and after everything that happened, _she_ was the one to push for us to make up.”

“Oh, she wasn’t the only one. Sombra has been riding my ass 24/7 about it, and even O’Dieran dropped a couple of snide remarks about celibacy and the deterioration of higher brain functions or some shit.” Gabriel scoffed, demonstrating precisely what he thought of that particular sentiment, before catching Jack’s gaze. “And let’s not forget my mama. _Dios_ , she will not _shut up_ about perfect golden boy Jack. _‘Where is Jack, mijo?’, ‘When is Jack coming back?’, ‘Jack was the best thing that ever happened to this family, mijo!’, ‘You best get your head out of your ass and bring him home to me again!’_ – and on and on and on…”

“Your mom is awesome.” Jack gave a genuine smile at the thought of sweet Mama Reyes. He missed her more than he would have thought. “And I do not believe for one second that saint of a lady said the word ‘ass’.”

“ _Tch_. Mama’s boy.”

“Ungrateful brat.”

Gabriel shook his head. He always had been outnumbered where Jack and his mother were concerned. His mama would be over the moon to know that they were trying to patch things up. Though they still had a lot of work to do.

“You’re unreasonably unfair on her, y’know. Amélie, I mean.” Gabriel didn’t really want to keep bringing her up, but he felt that if they were ever to move forward with their lives, they had to bury the past once and for all. “She’s had a hard go of it, Jack. Her first husband died, her second left her at the altar, and Gerard is a fucking deadbeat who only sticks around for the money.”

Jack took a deep breath in and let it out in a controlled exhale, mouth set in a hard line. “I’m very much aware, thank you. And I do feel like a prick, if you must know. If circumstances had been different, I honestly think we might have even hit it off.” He pinned Gabriel with a hard stare, that infamous tenacity bleeding through. “But it’s hard to make nice with the woman when every time I see her all I can think about are those absurdly long legs wrapped around your head. Just looking at her smug face and picturing the wild, kinky animal sex the two of you get up to just makes me _insane_.”

“She’s actually pretty vanilla,” Gabriel blurted out with a noncommittal shrug, like it was supposed to make Jack feel any better. (It strangely kinda did?) “Especially given how flexible she is, what with all that ballet training.”

Jack was still trying to process that information. “You’re kidding? Amélie? _Vanilla_?”

“No foolin’,” Gabriel snorted, eyes as honest as Jack had ever seen them. “She liked things scheduled and militant, just like her work. I tried to get something going in her office once, and, I shit you not, she swatted at me with a rolled up magazine like she was shooing some fucking mutt!”

Jack laughed at the mental image that conjured up, mirth shining in his blue, blue eyes. “To be fair, you always were a bit of a horndog. Getting you to concentrate on work instead of your dick was always a challenge. Christ, remember the conference call with Blizzard over in Queens?”

Remember it? Gabriel’s dick still twitches on impulse at the thought of it. “Jesus, Jackie. I still dream about that day. You had me trapped under your desk with your cock stuffed so far down my throat I could taste it three days later.”

“It was literally the only way to keep you out of trouble,” Jack replied without an ounce of humility, eyes crinkling in the corners with the width of his sharp grin. “It was also the quickest way to shut you up.”

“Punk,” Gabriel growled, though his own gaze was filled with carnal heat.

“I would have bet big money on Amélie being into hardcore S&M or some shit,” Jack theorised out loud. “Used to drive myself nuts thinking of her trussing you up like some poor, helpless fly caught in the spider’s parlour.”

“Now Jackie, you shouldn’t project your own inner desires onto others like that!” Gabriel teased, totally yanking on his chain, but then Jack had to go and blush a pretty shade of pink, and Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in shock. “ _Mierda_! For real? You’re telling me you would let me tie you down and slap a ball gag on ya and all that good stuff?”

Jack’s blush darkened to a luscious cherry red as he did his utmost to resolutely _not_ look at Gabriel and his shit-eating grin. “I mean, I wouldn’t be _opposed_ to the idea, if it was something you wanted to discuss…”

“ _Dios mio_ , you kinky little freak,” Gabriel growled heatedly, tonguing his canine as he fought to keep himself seated. “You could have told me this sooner, boy scout. I’ll truss you up right now if you have a scarf or something laying around in here…”

“Steady on there, stud,” Jack chastised around a suggestive smirk, holding his hands up in clear rebuff. “I’d like to spend my newfound day off doing something more productive than fucking on every sturdy surface in my home.”

“Spoilsport,” Gabriel huffed with levity, sitting back as he regarded the blonde with the kind of penetrating stare a predator would give it’s cornered prey. “This conversation ain’t over – we _will_ explore these new avenues, in vivid, carnal detail, at a later date. Like, tonight. Or this afternoon. Whichever comes first.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere.”

“ _Hmph_. So, what do you want to do on our spontaneous day off?”

Jack pondered for a moment, before smiling over at Gabriel with a charming grin that was just downright infectious. “I wanna go for a walk through the park.”

“Whoa, steady on there Maverick! Let’s not go _too_ crazy…”

“I wanna hit up that fair in town before it leaves,” Jack continued, ignoring Gabriel’s sarcastic remark. “I wanna hold hands, and go for lunch at Al’s Diner. I wanna share a milkshake and kiss in public before coming home and ordering takeaway and curling up together on the couch.”

Gabriel blinked, bewildered but pleasantly surprised. “Okay, so essentially you want to go out on a date?”

“Yes.”

“You’re an easy man to please, Morrison.”

Jack spread his palms out in a humble gesture. “It’s all part of my natural charm.”

“Mmm,” Gabriel concurred with a low hum, getting up and padding over to the blonde, that playful gleam in those baby blues causing Gabriel’s stomach to do acrobatics. How did he ever get so lucky as to fall into Jack’s orbit? Hooking a finger into the collar of the too-big t-shirt Jack wore, he pulled the blonde into a searing kiss, nipping gently at his lips. “Alright,” he breathed when they parted far enough for him to form words. Licking his lips, he chased the lingering taste of all that encompassed _Jack_. “Let’s do it. Let’s go on a date.”

Jack’s responding kiss was all the answer Gabriel needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those poor, dumb dads... so madly in love yet totally emotionally constipated!
> 
> There will be one more part to this coming next week - it'll be comparatively short, just a little epilogue of sorts to wrap it all up! Then hopefully by that stage I will have the spinoff ficlet/oneshot with McHanzo finished and ready to post! So there's still a little bit more to stay tuned for!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, and feel free to drop in and say hey! Stay safe guys and gals <3
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Buenos días, mi sol - good morning, sunshine  
> hermosa - gorgeous  
> dios - god  
> mierda - shit


End file.
